Crying for the Moon
by Hell's Pixie
Summary: Society demanded that they remain apart but fate had different plans. Enter the empty world of Carina Von Trent, will a street rat be able to save her while dealing with feeling he doesn't want?
1. Preface

Obedience

Silence

Manners

Perfection

These simply yet powerful words have ruled my entire life since I was a child. Follow these guidelines and the rules and remain unpunished. Become perfection, everything that they could have ever wanted and that will become happiness.

Don't ever show emotion.

Speak only when spoken to.

Don't ever cry.

Always be elegant, ladylike, and perfect.

Don't ever think.

Don't ever feel.

Don't ever cry.

Lock away any and all thoughts, hopes, dreams, wants, and wishes.

Be silent.

Hide your feelings, they matter to no one.

Become prefect.

And no matter what, you must never cry.

Over the last sixteen years, I have become the prefect lady, the prefect daughter. Empty, unfeeling, cold, silent, dead, I am perfection in the eyes of my parents and society.

I am a moving doll, beautiful in every respect. My rich, thick mahogany hair falls to my hips, a shimmering river of waves and curls, my eyes, a royal, deep amethyst. My skin is pale, perfect, light freckles kissed my high cheeks while my lips are full and sensual.

My life is a whirlwind of charm school, tutoring, tea parties, dinner parties, operas and plays. I watch, with dull, impassionate eyes, as theses events flow past, none impressionable, none important just as boring and bland as the people who attend them.

But in the deepest and most hidden depths of my soul I have hidden my most precious and secret belonging, a yearning, that has begun to grow more potent. I wish to be free from the perfection of my world, I dream of mistakes without punishment, of choices and freewill.

Freedom, how my soul cries for you. Yet, I have to silence such a cry, it's improper and unladylike. I should be grateful of this privileged life I led. I should be grateful of its strict patterns and routines. I should be grateful of its perfection.

Obedience

Silence

Manners

Perfection

These simply yet powerful words have ruled my entire life since I was a child. Follow these guidelines and the rules and remain unpunished. Become perfection, everything that they could have ever wanted and that will become happiness.

But these are the words that have stolen my freedom, have bound me to a life that I detest, are killing my soul. These four ugly, vile, foul, words and one simple rule:

You must never, ever cry.

Carina Von Trent


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Empty Rain

Carina sat stiffly, her spine straight and tall, her chin raised slightly and her backside completely numb. Her pale pink, tight, high collared, frill, ruffle, and lace covered dress was hot, uncomfortable, and itchy.

Her corset was pulled dizzyingly tight, making her unable take a full breath. It, the itchy lace gloves, layers of petticoats, tight boots and the hair pins digging into her scalp; pulling her dark hair painfully into a fashionable style, had begun to drive Carina to the point of insanity.

She remained silent though, as any proper lady would. One does not complain or share their discomforts with those around them. It is better to be uncomfortable and in pain than unladylike.

Carina stared out the grimy low-class restaurant window at the thick sheets of dark rain. Classes had just been let out and she and a friend wished to enjoy the sunny afternoon before returning home.

Their midday walk had been interrupted by the sudden rain storm, forcing them to take shelter from the pounding rain in a small, cheap restaurant called Tibby's. Her family would die if they knew where she was.

"It doesn't seem like it's going to let up anytime soon." A small, sweet voice whispered near Carina's ear.

Carina turned her attention to the petite blonde to her right. Lara Carter was the beloved daughter of a well to do dress shop owner and the talented seamstress that was his wife. Their success allowed them to send their daughter to charm school in the hopes of bettering her life.

Lara was small, only standing at five feet two inches but her curvy form, thick golden curls and brilliant blue eyes brought her more attention than she cared for. Lara was shy, quiet, and wanted to please, though she had a protective streak when it came to her friends.

Lara was the only person that Carina trusted with her true uncensored thoughts and feelings and the only person that has seen her cry.

"No, it doesn't. We might be here for a while." She and Lara shared a quick, knowing smile. They both were relishing this unseen break from their daily routines.

Carina glanced around the restaurant, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells that it offered. It differed so much from the clean, expensive restaurants and cafes she was use to.

The small, tin bell above the door gave off a sharp chirp signaling the arrival of more customers. A large group of dirty, poorly dressed boys shook off near the door before moving toward a cluster of empty tables near the back. They all removed their hats when they passed Carina and Lara, some shouted out cat-calls and whistles that caused the girls to blush.

"Damn," One boy let out, spinning a chair around to sit in it backwards. He shook his head but his short black hair remained firmly plastered to his freckled skin, "Its rain' cats an' dogs out there."

"Ain't gonna sell any papes in dis kinda weather." The blonde hair boy sitting next to him agreed. His left eye was covered with an eye patch but the right was a beautiful sky blue.

A boy with thick, curly brown hair shoved him lightly, "It's not like you sold much ta begin' wit', Blink." He teased. The blonde shoved him back and out of his chair on to the slick, dirty floor near Carina's chair.

The boy clamored to his feet, blushing furiously while the other boys hooted and hollered. "I'se sorry, miss," He murmured, fiddling with his hat.

Carina graced him with her most charming smile. "Please, there's nothing to apologize for. There was no harm done, Mr….?"

"Mu-Mush," He stuttered out, his blush darkening. "Me's name is Mush."

Carina's smile widened, ""It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mush and please, don't apologize. I'm just glad that you weren't injured."

"Ah, it takes more den dat ta hurt a newsie." Mush assured her, returning to his seat, glaring darkly at Blink before smiling shyly at Carina.

"Newsie?" Lara asked, leaning forward in her seat, resting her chin on her gloved figures. "I'm not sure I understand. Could you perhaps explain it for me?"

"A newsie is someone who's sells papes." Blink stated rather proudly, puffing out his lean chest while several other of the surrounding boys nodded.

"Oh my," Carina said with perfectly acted interest, "It sounds like an awfully difficult life. You all must be very strong. Do you make much money selling these papes?"

The black haired boy, who was now puffing on a short cigar answered her, "Nah, it's not all dat bad. Could be worse."

"How so?" Lara asked, taking a small sip of her poorly brewed tea.

A boy wearing a brown, well worn cowboy hat and a faded red bandana sitting behind Mush answered this time. "Could be workin' in sweat shops or factories. Being a newsie gives ya some freedom at least. Safer too."

Carina felt her heart sink at his words. These boys, as poor and deprived as they were, had something that she yearned for, something she could only dream about. How ironic life was at times.

"So what's pretty goils likes you doin' in a place likes dis?" A boy asked, a crutch leaning against the table near his glass of cheap beer.

Lara and Carina glanced at each other, blushing prettily, just as they were taught to when complimented. "We got caught in the rain." Lara provided, smiling at the boy, who blushed goofily.

"You'se don' seems likes you'se be on dis side of town." The boy with the cowboy hat stated rather coldly.

Carina glanced at him innocently. "We were looking at shops and got lost." The boy looked unconvinced. In truth, they had tired of the clean sidewalks and expensive stores and shops that they were so use to, they had wanted to see the side of Manhattan that was forbidden to them.

Mush, on the other hand, looked concerned. "Dis is a rough par' of town ta get lost in." He turned around, "Jack, maybe me, Blink and Race can shows dem back afta the rain stops."

Lara smiled widely, clapping her hands together. "Would you really do that? Oh, thank you ever so much! We were concerned on how we would get back home. You all must be angels!"

"We'se ain't no angels," Blink muttered, blushing darkly. "Just would feel bad if someting happened ta ya."

The conversation died abruptly when the waiter brought their food. The boys ate with a ravished urgency, shoveling food into their mouths as if it would disappear.

"Lara," Carina whispered, "We can't be seen with these boys." Lara nodded, taking another sip of her tea. "What do you suggest we do, Carina? We are lost after all and have no idea on how to get back. Your parents would be more worried that you didn't return, wouldn't they?"

Carina didn't answer, returning her gaze to the pouring rain just beyond the dirty glass. Truthfully, she didn't know how to answer; her parents would punish her either way.

--------------------

Several hours later the rain had yet to let up, if anything, it had begun to fall harder. Carina felt her heart sink as she continued to stare at the blanketing rain. She could all ready feel the sharp sting of her mother's hand and could hear the angry words from her father.

The small restaurant had become even more crowded as more Newsies appeared to escape from the rain. She was surprised to see several small boys hidden amidst the dirt and grime that seemed to be everywhere.

What surprised Carina even more was that she had become truly interested in the Newsies and their lives. She found herself listening intently as they told stories, some funny, others sad.

Though they were a rag-tagged bunch, covered in dirt and filth, orphans and poor; they seemed so happy and acted like a family. The older boys too take of the younger ones, making sure they had enough food and were dry.

She was certain that they would do whatever it took to keep each other safe. Lying, stealing, fighting, killing, it didn't matter to these boys; their loyalty to one another came above all else.

Though they did their best to hide this fact.

The boys annoyed one another, jesting and teasing with a ruthlessness. Their rowdy and wild antics often caused Carina and Lara to dissolve into true, uncensored laughter; which only seemed drive the boys on.

Carina began thinking less and less about her home and the worries she had. They slipped silently into the back of her mind. She listened intently as Mush regaled them with yet another story.

"Den da rope got so tangled arou' Davie dat he fell inta the riva' pulln' Jack in wit' him!" Mush roared, slapping his knee as he laughed. David blushed darkly while Jack just gave the surrounding boys a smirk. "Dey came out lookn' like a bunch of drown' rats!"

David opened his mouth to defend himself but was interrupted by the sharp chirp of the bell. The restaurant fell silent as two other Newsies walked towards the table. Carina felt a small chill streak down her spine as she stared at the boys, they seemed to be far more dangerous then the others.

"Spot," Jack called, getting to his feet, meeting the boys half way. "Wha' bring' ya ta Manhattan?"

Spot's eyes roamed around the restaurant like he owned it. Carina felt her heart jump when they stopped on her. It was very obvious that he was judging her as he looked her up and down.

Carina lifted her chin haughtily, pinning him with her own calculating gaze and honestly, she liked what she found. He wasn't extremely tall, standing somewhere around five eight, his body lean and firm. Damp blonde hair hung around his face, framing it nicely.

But it was his eyes that held her attention. They shimmered between blue and gray, looking like water on a stormy day. But there was no hiding the arrogance in them. Cocky, egotistical, womanizing, arrogant, ruthless, cruel; Spot seemed to wear his sins on his sleeve proudly.

Carina had known men like him all her life. Honor less, fiends, dogs, men little better than animals and to be left alone. Yes, this Spot was dangerous.

"Pretty hoity-toity eatn' compan' dere, Jackie-boy." Spot commented pointing a cheap golden capped cane at Lara and Carina.

The tall, red haired boy on Spot's right snorted rudely, eyeing the girls like they were insects. "I'se surprised dat dey can keep da food down." He fingered a well worn sling shot.

"Dey'se got caugh' in da rain, Shooter." Blink answered, standing. "Dats all." Several of the surrounding Newsies nodded, shifting in their chairs.

"Dey shouldn' be here at all!" Shooter snapped angrily. "People's like dem are all da same, actn' like dey own da worl', lookn' down on everyone else. Dey ain't no bette' dan the res' of us. Dey shouldn' be on dis side of town!"

He took a threatening step towards their table. Mush shoved him back, "Dey ain't none of you'se concern."

"Gentlemen, please!" Carina stated sharply, standing. "There is no need to fight. If our presence offends you gentlemen so much, my company and I are happy to leave."

Spot raised a pale eyebrow as Crutchy hobbled forward, the wood of his crutch clicking against the dirty floor. "You'se goils can't leave! It still pourn' out dere!"

Lara stood, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Thank you for your concern, but there is a telephone a few blocks back. We can call for a coach from there. We shan't get too wet."

"We've got a telephone in back, misses." The waiter called out sheepishly, pointing toward the kitchens. "I kinda forgot to mention it before."

Both Lara and Carina paused, turning toward the waiter. "You forgot to mention it?" They both repeated in disbelief at the same time.

--------------------

Carina slipped silently back into the cold wood chair, clasping and unclasping her gloved hands. The conversation with her mother had gone as well as she had planned. She was beyond dead.

"My mother is sending Jerald," She stated to Lara, her voice dull and wooden. Carina's heart was pounding uncomfortably against her ribs, making it even harder to breathe. "He should arrive shortly."

Lara nodded, studying her friend's pale and drawn face, "Are you going to be all right?" She asked, reaching across the table for Carina's hand.

Carina's throat suddenly constricted as her amethyst eyes burned with tears. No, she wasn't going to be all right, quite the contrary in fact. She forced air back into her lungs as fear and panic iced her veins.

But, as ever, she faked a brilliant smile, squeezing Lara hand lightly before releasing it, "Of course I'll be all right." Carina replied lightly, "My mother was concerned, that was all."

Lara raised an eyebrow, calling her bluff. "Of course she was." Carina's smile fell as she looked away from her friend's gaze. Carina had spent years perfecting her lying, but she still hated lying.

She turned her gaze toward the Newsies, who were happily immersed in a drinking game. Spot and Jack were at a separate table, their head close together in deep conversation. Jack tipped his chair back; bring his hands behind his head, exhaling heavily.

"_Obviously, the conversation had gone badly."_ Carina mused darkly, watching as Jack took a deep drag off the cigarette Spot had handed him.

"Dat's your plan, huh?" Jack stated, studying Spot. He shook his head, exhaling a cloud of gray smoke. "I'se don' like it, Spot."

"You'se got a bette' one?" Spot demanded sharply. Jack remained silent, buried in his own thoughts, leaving Spot to his.

"I'se got no choice on dis one, Jackie-boy." Spot stated finally, his voice low, free of the usual arrogance it held. "I'se got my boys ta tink 'bout too. I'se ain't gonna find another one floatin' in da riva'."

Carina turned away from their conversation; she didn't want to hear anymore. Death, one of Spot's Newsies was killed. They talked about it so easily, so calmly. Death must be so common with these boys; it made her want to cry for them.

"You'se all righ'?" A small voice asked, startling Carina out of her thoughts. Les, David's younger brother and one of the younger Newsies, was standing next to her chair; his large brown eyes filled with concern as he started up at her. "You'se looks so sad."

Carina felt her heart soften as she smiled down at the young boy. "Do I?" She asked gently, taking his dirty hands in her own. "I am sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what?" Les asked, cocking his head slightly. "Well, lots of different things. I suppose I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I looked upset. I am sorry if I worried you, little one."

Les blushed darkly, "I'se wasn't worried, I'se just thought that…uh…yeah!" He scampered off abruptly, returning to his friends who instantly began to ruthlessly tease him.

Lara and Carina glanced quickly at each other before laughing softly. Their giggles were caught short as the tin bell chirped and Jerald walked through the door. Tall, lankly, wrinkled, and wizened, Jerald, despite his craggy appearance, was the kindest person Carina had ever known.

Jerald had been her family's butler since Carina was a child. Jerald and his wife, Lenora, the family's cook, had always treated Carina like she was their own child. She thought of them as her true parents.

"Miss Von Trent, Miss Carter," Jerald wheezed, "The coach is just outside, we had best be off."

Lara and Carina stood, smoothing out their dresses, "Thank you, Jerald." Carina replied smoothly, walking towards the door.

"You'se goils gonna be'se all right?" Mush asked, standing.

Lara turned back and smiled dazzlingly at him. "Of course, thank you all for your stories. They were a wonderful way to pass the time."

Carina wavered in the doorway. She didn't want to leave, to return to the prefect hell that has held her captive for so long. She so desperately wanted to stay.

"Miss Von Trent," Jerald took her arm lightly, "Your mother is waiting. We must be off." Carina's breath caught in her throat as fear filled her being again. She didn't want to leave. She took a step back, pulling at Jerald's hold. "I…."

Her impenetrable walls she had spent her whole life building up had begun to waver. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to taste freedom just for a little while longer. She wanted to remain here with these imperfect, intriguing people.

But she couldn't. She knew this and this knowledge replaced her feels; returning her to her stony perfection. "O-Of course." She whispered, straightening her back, "We must go."

Carina slipped out of the brightly lit restaurant and into the wet, darkness. It consumed her, filled her being, this is who she was.

She was Carina Von Trent, beautiful, elegant, obedient, and perfection. Though, this knowledge did very little ease the burning of her unshed tears.

---------------------

Hey,

Here's the first chapter new and improved!

Just a few grammar and spelling mistakes.

I hope everyone still likes it!

Pixie


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Beginning Anew

Carina kept her back ramrod stiff, keeping it far away from the plush back of the ornate cream colored chair she currently occupied. She did her best to keep her mind on the page of Latin verbs that was sitting before her but the burning emptiness of her stomach would not go away.

Her back was blistered and bruised from the lashing she had received, the underside of her upper arms were marred with deep scratches from her mother's nails. She has spent the last two nights locked in the damp, cold, dark cellar.

Her father had dragged her upstairs this morning so she could bathe; her wrists and arms bore the signs of his cruelness. She hadn't eaten in nearly three days, but here she sat, quiet, lady-like, dressed in one of her best afternoon gowns.

Lara sat on her right, her eyes often sliding away from her Latin book to study Carina's pale face. Their teacher, Collette Darrive, a young, mild class linguist with thick curly red hair, a pixie like face and build and warm chocolate brown eyes, had also noticed the condition of her student.

"Girls," She stated suddenly, breaking the studious silence that had fallen over her class of five. "I do believe its time for a break." She stood, clapping her hands together. Her frilly white dress swished around her merrily. "Lara, Carina, will you help me with the tea?"

"Of course, Ms. Darrive." Both girls replied; instantly standing and following their teacher into her small kitchen. Once the thick wood door closed, both Collette and Lara spun around to confront Carina.

"Are you all right?" Collette asked; her concern was evident in her musical voice. Though she had only known Carina and Lara for little less than a year she has grown fond of her most spirited students and thought of them as younger sisters.

The three would often spend time together, going on long walks in Central Park, secretly swimming in the harbor, going to music and jazz halls. Through sincerity and kindness Collette had earned the trust of these two girls, and that means more to her than the payments their parents give her.

Carina inclined her head slightly. She smiled brightly at the two women. "I am fine. Please do not worry. I just did not sleep well last night."

"Do not lie to me, Carina Von Trent!" Lara snapped, her blue eyes narrowing. "You could not lie to me when we were little, you can not lie to me now!"

"Please, Lara," Carina pleaded, taking her friend's hand. "Not so loud. The others might hear us."

"Fine then," Collette stated, "You'll tell us what is going on after the others leave."

Carina nodded, taking the steaming tea kettle off the burner. "After class." She promised, as her heart sunk into her empty stomach.

--------------------

The moment the front door had closed Colette and Lara instantly demanded an answer. After much persistence, even a little threatening, Carina told them, everything. They sat, wide eyed in terror as they listened, their hands covering their mouths.

"Carina," Collette whispered, clutching the young woman's hands. "You have to leave."

A cold, mocking laugh escaped Carina's lips, her eyes dark and full of scorn. "And where am I to go? Where on this planet can I hide?" She asked, "They will find me, and they will drag me back."

"If this carries on, Carina," Lara gasped, "It will kill you. Please, you must run away!" Carina looked at her friends, tears welling in her eyes. "I would rather die than to be drug back after tasting freedom."

A sharp knock on the door ended their hushed conversation. Collette allowed Jerald to enter. "The coach is outside, Miss Von Trent," He stated sadly, fingering his tattered washed out red scarf, "Your mother wants to see you."

Carina stood, her head held high even though she was screaming on the inside. Collette stopped her at the door, "Please, Carina," she begged, gripping Carina's black coat sleeve tightly. "Don't go back."

"I will be all right." Carina promised, hugging the older woman tightly. She slipped out the upper class apartment, feeling like a woman condemned to hell.

"Hell," She whispered, staring out into the bright sunlight as laughing children rushed past waving wooden swords. Tears clogged her throat again, stealing what little breath she had from her.

Carina reached out a gloved hand towards the blinding sun. "I can not touch it," She whispered, letting her hand fall. Jerald came up, patting her shoulder lightly, "You will one day, lass." He promised, "You will."

Carina stepped out into the sun, her chin set, her head high. _"Until that day," _She thought, _"I will remain in my prefect hell." _

--------------------

Days had gone by yet nothing had changed. Carina continued being perfection and soon she was allowed back into her room and the dining hall. But she would make mistakes that would send her back to the cellar, bruised and hungry.

She was going to end this. It was just a matter of when she got her chance. It came; far sooner than she had hoped.

-------------------

It was dark when the rain started again. Carina could hear the angry beats of it as it bounced off the roof of the opera hall. Her family had been invited to the upper balcony by the mayor and his company, a rare opportunity.

They had watched the first half of the opera in proper silence as the leading woman gave off high notes at an ear shattering octave. Her mother sat on her left, one of her father's business partner's son sat on her right, a frog like boy name Hubert.

Her red silk dress was the best she owned. The elegant and extensive embroidery was done in black crystal and the neckline was low enough to wear the matching necklace. Once again it was pulled dizzyingly tight and the corset bit painfully into her bruised back and shoulders. Her long hair was pulled up tightly in an elegant twist and was adorned by red crystal pins.

Carina knew she looked like a doll and she hated herself for it.

She moved slightly, trying to relieve some of the pain. Her mother dug her nails into wrist discreetly. "Quite fidgeting, Carina." She snapped menacingly out of the side of her mouth.

"I am sorry, Mother." She whispered back, stilling instantly. She talked politely with Hubert and his spoiled younger sister, Hannah. Carina pretended to bask in the attention Hubert was lavishing upon her.

The lights darkened just then, ending the conversation and announcing the second half of the opera. She touched Hubert's arm lightly gaining his instant attention. "Excuse me, but I feel a little faint, would you mind letting me pass."

Hubert clamored to his feet and Carina slipped by in and out the balcony doorway. She slipped down the carpeted stairs, smiling at the people she passed. Once in the lobby, she gathered her coat and walked out the gold front doors.

The rain beat down angrily, causing Carina to gasp at its cold touch. She rushed, as quickly as her tight boots would allow, toward Jerald, who stood beside the coach; clutching a small sack tightly. "Carina," He whispered as she neared "Are you sure about this?"

Carina stared up at the man she saw as a father, pain tugged at her heart as tears welled in her eyes. "Yes, Jerald," She stated firmly, taking the sack from his hands. "I can not stay here any longer. They are killing me inside; it is just a matter of time before the outside dies as well."

Jerald nodded, glancing around the darkened street, "Where will you go?"

"I have a place in mind," Carina admitted. She had to hurry. Someone was bound to notice her long absence. "I should be safe there for a little while at the least. I plan on getting in touch with Collette in a week or so, in the hopes that she can get me down to her family in Boston."

Jerald nodded, his old eyes dark with grief. He pulled open the coach door, "Change then go. I'll take care of the rest."

Carina slid into the warm coach, pulling her wet dress and underclothing off as quickly as she could. She slipped into the warm, black wool skirt, light blue blouse and comfortable shoes that Jerald had supplied for her.

She freed her hair from the pins, tucking them into her sack along with her necklace and earrings, and then braided her dark hair into a thick braid. Carina slid her expensive black coat over her, now, plain clothing before jumping from the coach.

"Just like we planned," She whispered to Jerald. "Take the dress and drop it into the river. The police will think that I was mugged while getting a breath of air," She glanced back toward the opera house. "Hopefully, my parents will believe it."

Jerald nodded again, holding the damp dress against his chest. "Lenora and I never had…never had any children." He stated to the wet cobblestones, his voice gruff. "We know that you weren't our daughter but…"He stopped suddenly, pressing a winkled hand against his eyes.

Jerald looked up, tears and rain running down is weathered skin, "But you were our little girl, Carina. No matter what happens, we love you and you are our daughter."

Carina threw her arms around him, hugging his lean form fiercely. "I love you too," She whispered against his chest.

Jerald cleared his throat a few time before pulling her away. "Now, you get out of here before someone comes looking." He stated. "Go be happy, Carina."

Carina nodded, took a few steps away from the coach, stopped and looked back. "Jerald…I…"

Jerald stood at his full imposing height, dropping his hands on his hips. "Go on, get! No one deserves to live in a box, Carina. Now, scat!"

She turned around again and took a step forward. Could she really do this? Could she really run away from everything? Yes. This was her chance at true freedom.

Carina started to run.

--------------------

The rain pounded furiously against Carina, chilling her even more. She had been running for what seemed like days, and was now so lost that she wasn't even sure which way was up. But she had to keep moving, the opera was over by now and soon every officer in the city would be looking for her.

She stopped for a minute, leaning heavily against the rough brick wall of some building, trying desperately to force air back into her burning lungs, which she found was much easier to do without a corset.

"_It's got to be around here somewhere,"_ She thought, glancing around the buildings. _"I have to be close." _

Just then a powerful, booming voice cut through her thoughts. "You there, girl!" Carina spun around, terrified as a police officer rode forward. "What are you doing out so late?"

Carina's mind reeled for a proper response. "I-I'se lookn' for me brother." She stated mimicking the accent she had heard the boys use. "He'se a Newsie, ya know! But in all dis rain, I'se got lost."

The officer studied her for a moment before pointing behind him. "Go this way for two blocks then take a left. Keep going straight and you'll see the sign."

The breath that Carina didn't know she was holding came out in a rush. "Oh, thank ya, sir!" She cried, taking off in the direction he pointed.

Carina continued running until she turned the block. She slowed to a walk, looking behind her. "Thank God," She whispered, "Just a little farther now." She started to run again but was forced to stop as a wave of dizziness washed over her.

It past but left her feeling weak. "Just a little farther." She muttered again, walking slowly. The weakness, like the dizzy spell past quickly, allowing Carina to rush towards her goal.

Her legs burned with weariness as the icy air cleaved through her equally burning lungs painfully. Carina was about to stop again when she caught sight of it.

The word 'NEWSBOYS' was painted on a large sign in big white letters. Carina nearly fainted from the sight of it. She rushed forward, ignoring the pain in her body. Carina pounded against the ancient door, silently begging that someone would answer her.

The wooden door opened and light flooded the dark street. Jack stood in the doorway, staring at her like he had seen a ghost.

Carina pushed away the hair that plastered it's self onto her face. "Please," She said, clutching her coat tightly around her shaking shoulders, "I need a place to hide."

"Please," She whispered again weakly, as the darkness from the street suddenly washed over her. She gave herself to it willingly. After so much, she had finally reached it.

Her freedom.

--------------------

Carina wasn't sure how much time had past when light begun to seep back into her world, pushing away the darkness. Unusual sound and smells followed, forcing Carina awake as panic suddenly rushed through her.

She stared at the springs of the bed above her, trying to force her brain to calm down enough to process information. The bed she was lying in was uncomfortable and lumpy, smelling of smoke and sweat; the blankets were thin and ragged. Noise erupted all around her. Shouts and laughter echoed confusingly in her ears.

Carina sat up slowly, resting her pounding head against the cool metal frame of the top bed. Slowly, the memory of the previous night played through her mind and, suddenly, everything made sense.

"You'se up," A deep voice stated from behind Carina causing her to leap off the bed. Jack moved around the end of the bunk bed, pulling on a stained white shirt. "I'se was beginn' ta tink dat you'se weren't gonna wake up."

Carina rested her hand against her forehead, glancing around the large bed filled room. The wood floor felt grimy beneath her bare feet and everything around her was stained, tattered, dirty, and worn. How hard these boy's lives must be! "How long was I asleep?"

"Two day," Jack supplied, tying his faded bandana around his neck. He nodded toward the dresser placed between a set of beds. "You'se clothes an' belongins' are in da bottom drawer. I'se suggests dat you'se get dress befor' da others come back in."

"Dressed?" Carina asked confused, looking down at herself. She blushed darkly when she realized that she was only in her thin nightgown that was packed away in her sack. She nearly dove for the bottom drawer, clutching her proper clothing to her chest.

Jack laughed, walking away; back towards the noise of the other boys in the adjoined room. "Don't worry, Princess," He stated, "I'se keep da other outta here til you'se changed. Kloppman wants ta see ya afta' dat."

"Who?" Carina asked, pulling on her blouse, it, like her skirt was warm and dry and smelled of smoke and ink. She quickly folded her nightgown, sliding it into the small drawer, taking out the small, ornate hairbrush and began tugging through her curls.

Jack paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder; he turned, leaning his hip against the doorjamb. "Damn, Princess, dat was quick."

"Carina," Carina stated smoothly, braiding her hair into a loose braid.

"What?"

"Carina, that is my name," She stated again, standing and moving toward Jack. She could see the boys moving around in the other room. "My name is Carina, not Princess."

Jack shrugged then asked, "Carina, Princess, Spoiled rotten little brat, what's it matte'? You'se just anothe' person dat ran away fom home."

"I had my reasons for doing so," Carina stated, squaring her shoulders. His words stung her more than she admitted which, in turn, angered her slightly.

Jack looked straight into her eyes, his gaze serious and intense. "You'se don' tink dat da rest of us didn'? We'se all made da same choice, Princess, you'se ain't no different."

"I had no where else I could go, Jack," Carina whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. "A few weeks are all I am asking for. Please, this is the only place I have."

Jack studied Carina, knowing full well that she had no where these to run to. He felt sorry for her but it wasn't his decision in the end. "Kloppman's the one who's got da last say in dat matter, Princess. I'se can't help ya."

He pointed to a door on the other side of the room. "Go through dere, down da steps. Kloppman will be'se behind da front desk." Jack turned away from her, shouting at the boys to hurry.

Carina nodded, moving towards the other door, wringing her hands slightly. The wooden steps creaked and groaned loudly under her slight weight. Just like Jack said, Kloppman was behind the front desk, his white head buried in a shabby book.

Old and wrinkled, Kloppman reminded Carina of an old hound dog; full of bark, little bite and often preferred a neat and orderly existence. He seemed kind though, beneath all his gruff and craggy exterior. Carina prayed that she wasn't wrong.

"You'se just gonna stand there all day, young lady?" He asked without looking up from his book. His rough voice startled her, causing Carina to jump. She stumbled down the last step only remaining upright because of her white-knuckled grip on the ancient banister.

"I am s-sorry, sir," Carina stammered out, standing at the foot of the steps. "I did not want to interrupt you."

Kloppman closed the book, pinning her with his aged gaze. Carina felt as if he was looking right through her, past her prim and proper manners, past her walls and into her soul. She swallowed a few times, clasping and unclasping her hands as she waited for his verdict.

"You'se a proper little thing, ain't ya?" Kloppman stated firmly as he continued to study her. "Pretty too. But judging from you'se back and arms, you'se had a pretty rough life."

Carina stared at him, shocked beyond belief. "You saw?"

"Of course, I'se saw," Kloppman laughed wheezy, slowly moving out from behind the desk. "You'se think that I was gonna let one of the boys change you'se out of your wet clothes? Now, don't work you'se self into a thither. Just me, Jack, and Doc Brenson saw."

He abruptly walked into a small office a little ways beyond the desk. Carina heard him curse a few times before the sound of a safe opening echoed loudly through the lobby area. Carina glanced around quickly, taking in her new surroundings. The large wood desk was built into the wall next to the front door.

A large fireplace was across from the desk, a few well worn chairs placed around an equally worn, lopsided table were a few feet from the empty fireplace. The office was just off the desk and a small hallway was next to the fireplace.

The floor was covered in worn, red faded carpet that bared large patches of the wood beneath it. Dingy cream and gold wallpaper peeped away from the walls and onto the floor. The entire house smelled of smoke and ink.

Her attention was torn away from the small stack of books piled on the end of the desk as Kloppman entered the room, carrying a small cigar box. He moved back behind the desk, motioning her to come forward.

"I'se took these from you'se bag," He explained opening the box. Carina let out a sigh when she saw her necklace, ornate sliver hand mirror and a few dollar bills and coins tucked away beneath a stained hankie.

"I'se took da liberty of selling you'se hair pins yesterday." Kloppman stated, taking out the money. "I'se got five dollars for all three of dem. I'se knows dats not a real good price but at least it will give you some money."

"Now, I'se not a dumb person. You'se ran away from a rich home and, judging from the marks on you, you'se ain't gonna go back. I'se feel sorry for ya and," He paused, staring straight into Carina's eyes before exhaling heavily, "Against my better judgment, I'se gonna let you'se stay."

"Oh, thank you!" Carina gasped, smiling widely.

"Now, hold it," Kloppman held up his hand, "You'se gonna have to pay to stay here like everyone else and you'se gonna have to work. It's five cents a night, so a dollar fifty for da month. Dat give ya three and a half dollars, now," He handed her thirty-five cents, putting everything else back into the box. "Use da quarter today at the circulation office, dat will get ya fifty papes; ya sell dem for a penny a piece. The fifteen cents is for lunch, now, it ain't gonna be what you're use to but it's still pretty good food."

Carina nodded, clutching the coins tightly in her fist. She could do this, she had too. She was scared though, fear pumped through her veins. What would she do if she failed? Carina shook her head, forcing that thought out of her mind.

"You'se can have da bunk you woke up in, it's off in the corner with no one really around ya, and dat should give ya some privacy. There's a bathroom down here with a small shower that you can use." Kloppman paused, the girl looked so scared, so terribly alone and it made his heart ache for her. He reached out patting her on the arm lightly. "These are good boys and they'll take good care of you'se. Don't worry."

"Thank you for your generosity." Carina said, smiling at the older man. Their conversation ended as the Newsies began rushing down the steps like a heard of elephants. "Jack!" Kloppman called out as the boys filed out the door. Carina blushed as many of the boys whistled and gave cat-calls as they passed.

Jack, Mush, Racetrack, Blink and several others skidded to a halt. He motioned toward Carina, "The little missy is gonna be staying here for a bit." He pointed a gnarled finger at the older boys. "I'se wants ya'll to look after her and show her the ropes."

"Sure ting, Kloppman," Jack stated with little interest as he continued towards out the door. "Come on, Princess, you'se can sell with me and Davy today."

Carina slipped the coins into the small hidden pocket that was built into her skirt before following the boys out. Mush and Blink were kind enough to wait for her, helping her down the rickety steps.

"You'se gonna love being a Newsie, Princess," Mush promised, grinning goofily. Blink nodded his agreement.

Carina opened her mouth to correct him but stopped. She had willingly given up her old life of comfort and wealth for this new one of freedom why shouldn't she give up her name as well.

Princess smiled dazzlingly at the boys around her. This was a new life, a whole new world, though she was scared about the future, she was excited for it as well. For now, she was free.

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Hola, hola!

New and improved chapter two!

Yay!

Sorry about the long update time but chapter three should be out sometime next week.

So keep an eye out for it!

Pixie


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Smoke and Ink

Several weeks had passed since Princess joined the Newsies, yet to her, it had felt like an eternity. Her body was sore in places she didn't even realize she had, her legs and arms felt has if they had been filled with lead and hurt whenever she moved them.

It was still early, Kloppman had just begun to wake the boys, she could hear him yelling and stomping around. Princess quickly yanked on her blouse over her damp skin, adjusting it slightly. She stretched, trying to work some of the ache from her body and joints, it did little good.

She smiled at herself in the foggy, dirty mirror as she quickly brushed her damp hair before braiding it tightly. Princess smiled at herself one last time before forcing the warped wood door to open.

She heaved a frustrated sigh at the door before breaking down into quiet laughter. Her life had changed so drastically in a single week; she almost didn't recognize the face in the mirror any longer. Yet, she couldn't be any happier.

Princess was proud of herself, with the help of Jack, Davy, even young Les she had sold nearly every one of her papers everyday, a rather hard task, she had figured out. Though she hated lying, Princess found she was actually very good at it. Plus, many people simply bought from her because she was a girl, a selling tactic that many of the boys found unfair.

And, true to Kloppman's word, the boys had been so kind to her. Many treated her as a sister, while some of the younger boys treated her more like a mother. One boy, a small six year old boy with curly brown hair and vivid green eyes named Sparks, had even gone as far as sleeping in the bed next to hers, saying that she helped keep his nightmares away.

Blink and Race had quickly become her closest friends, always involving her and helping her out. Even Jack had warmed up to her, teaching her everything about street life and being a Newsie. But it was Mush who Princess had grown closest to. He acted like an overprotective older brother, always making sure that she was safe and comfortable.

The Newsies stampeding down the ancient stairs broke Princess out of her thoughts. Sparks' eyes lit up when he spotted her standing near the door. He shoved his way through the crowd to fling himself around her waist. "Good mornin', Princess!" He cried, tilting his head back to smile up at her, his curly hair bouncing merrily around his young face.

She laughed, hugging him back. "Good morning, Sparks," Princess replied, smiling brightly at the young boy. "Did you sleep well? No nightmares?"

He nodded happily, tugging her out the door and down the rickety steps. They rushed to catch up with the others, nearly running into Mush. Sparks left her with Mush and the others to go run around with his friends.

"Ready for anothe' day?" Blink asked, tugging her long braid. "What are you'se talkin' about, Blink?" Race asked, shoving Blink away from Princess, "She does bette' dan you'se!"

Blink shoved Race back, nearly knocking him into Princess, who was quickly pulled out of harm's way by Mush. He glared at the two, keeping a steadying arm around Princess' shoulders. She smiled at Mush, patting his arm before taking off after Blink and snatching away his hat, gracefully dancing out of his reach.

Mush and Race roared with laughter as Blink chased Princess through the throngs of the Manhattan Newsies. She was so caught up in the teasing chase that she forgot to look where she was going, she ran right into someone, nearly knocking both of them down.

"I'm so sorry," She stated breathlessly, steadying herself. A pair of strong, callous hand gripped her shoulder painfully. "What's da rush, Sweet-face?" A voice sneered, causing Princess' head to snap up. Oscar Delancey and his brother Morris smiled cruelly back at her. Oscar's hold tightened, his fingers digging painfully into her skin.

The Delancey brothers had given her nothing but trouble since the very first moment she stepped foot in the circulation center. "Let me go, Oscar." Princess commanded, tugging at his grip. He and his brother laughed wickedly but stopped abruptly when Jack and the others came around the corner.

"You'se heard da lady," Jack stated, stepping towards Oscar menacingly. "Let her go." Oscar smirked, pulling Princess against his chest. "I'se don' know, Cowboy," Princess gagged as the stench of sweat and cheap liquor washed over her. "I'se kinda likes her where she's at."

Princess brutally kicked him in the shin, broke his hold and raced to Jack. He quickly glanced at her, making sure that she us unharmed before handing her to Mush. He grabbed the still cussing Oscar by his collar, slamming him against a large wagon parked outside of a small bakery. "Touch one of my Newsies again and I'se will rip you'se apart." Jack growled darkly before shoving Oscar into his brother.

"You'se all right?" Mush asked as they walked into the circulation office. Princess smiled at him, "Of course, it was my fault after all. I was being reckless." She admitted, "I'm sorry for worrying you all and it won't happen again."

"You'se were just playn' arou', Princess," Blink stated, tugging her braid again, his hat firmly on his blonde head. "You'se don' have ta be sorry for messin' arou' an havin' some fun."

"Yeah," Race agreed, slinging his around over her shoulders. "We'se boys, Princess, bein' stupid and reckless is what we'se do best." She laughed, causing the Newsies in line behind them to smile.

They waited for Jack and Davy to buy their papers before getting their own. Mush glared at Morris before letting Princess buy her papers. Morris wisely remained silent, glaring death and daggers at the young girl as he slid her papers out to her. She simply smiled sweetly at him before making her way over to her selling partners.

"Dey hurts you'se, Princess?" Jack asked when she sat down next to him on the wooden platform. He didn't look up from the paper he was glancing over, a half smoked cigarette rested between his lips.

Princess glanced at Jack, studying him carefully. The handsome Newsie leader always treated her with a kind of cool kindness. At times he barely spoke more than three words to her yet he was constantly looking out for her. Cowboy Jack Kelly was a very hard man to figure out.

But she respected him, knowing that he would take care of any problem she presented to him. This was one of the reasons she always spoke honestly to him. "Bruised and a little sore," She admitted quietly, flipping through the paper, reading the headlines and quickly rephrasing them into more interesting statements. "I'll be fine though."

"You'se finally seem ta be warmin' up ta da boys." He stated, "Sure didn' take ya da long."

"It's hard not to warm up to them," Princess replied softly, glancing around the seated boys. "Everyone is very kind to me." Jack suddenly stroked her head. "Course everyone's nice ta ya, we'se a family afta' all." He stated calmly, letting his hand drop, "An family takes care of one anothe'."

He hopped off the platform, yelling at the boys to get moving. Princess stared after him, shocked and pleased beyond words. "Come on, Princess," Les called, waving wildly at her from the front gate. "You'se gonna get left behind!"

Princess slid off the platform, dusting her skirt with her free hand. Happiness and joy bubbled up inside of her as she rushed to catch up with Jack, Les, and Davy. She took Les' hand, smiling brightly as the younger boy blushed.

She glanced up at the early morning sun, listening as the Newsies shouted out their phony headlines as they made their ways towards their respective selling spots. She smiled at Jack over her shoulder who smirked back at her before calling out headlines of her own.

---------------------

The cobblestone streets began to fill with more people as the day went on. It was late in the morning and Princess had, once again, sold nearly all of her papers. She and Davy worked the far side of the market place while Jack and Les worked the other side. The market place was a prime selling spot and belonged to Jack.

Princess smiled dazzlingly at the older gentleman who had just bought one of her papers. The man blushed darkly before shuffling away. _"Only seven more,"_ Princess thought, wiping away the sweat that was forming on her brow. _"The boys have to be close to being done by now." _

Jack and Davy, with the help of Les, each sold a hundred papers in the time it took her to sell the sixty she had, a fact that Princess was trying very hard to change. Her goal was to add ten papers to her pile every week and be able to sell them all, and, actually, she was doing quite well with it.

Over the course of fifteen minutes she had finally sold the last of her papers and began the troublesome task of finding the boys. She kept her hand over her pocket as she made her way through the crowd, mindful of the pickpockets that were after her hard earned money.

She spotted them near a fruit stand, talking while the vender eyeing them warily. Princess called out Jack's name, trying to force her way more quickly through the crowd. Jack turned towards her, a smile resting on his lips but the smile quickly faded, a look of concern and panic taking its place.

"Princess, run" Jack called out, forcing his way through the masses, Davy and Les hot on his heels. "Run! It's the Bulls!"

Princess stopped, terror filling her. _"The Bulls," _She thought, carefully glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, two officers were making their way towards her through the crowd. _"God, no, no. Not now! Not after all this time!"_

She ducked her head down, weaving her way through the scores of people until turning into a small, dark alley way. Princess hid quickly behind a large pile of broken fishing crates, praying softly under her breath.

The officers passed by her hiding place without stopping, still searching the crowd in front of them. Princess leaned back against the rough brick wall, letting out the breath she had been holding.

Davy appeared several minutes later. "Why are you people always running from the police?" He asked, sighing as he helped her to her feet. Jack and Les stood in the mouth of the alley, keeping watch incase the officers came back.

Princess flung herself into Jack's arms the moment she was close enough. The familiar feeling of threatening tears burned her eyes as her heart pounded painfully against her ribs. The simple thought of being found, of being forced back sent ice shooting through her veins.

Jack, hesitating for only a moment, wrapped his arms around Princess. He felt her shaking as he tried to calm her down. The concern and protectiveness he felt towards her double as his only girl Newsie fought back tears in his arms.

"I wanted to go home," Princess whispered against his shoulder, clutching his shirt tightly. "Please, Jack, take me home."

"Easy, Princess," Jack said, keeping his arm around her as they slipped into the bustling crowd. "I'se got ya, nothin' gonna get ya." She kept her head down, twisting her fingers in her skirt, trusting Jack to get her back to the lodging house safely.

The moment they stepped foot in the dirty, disheveled lobby, Princess bolted away from Jack and up the broken stairs. She blew passed the random groups of Newsies in the bunkroom, climbing out an open window and onto the fire escape.

The warm afternoon wind tore at her hair and clothes as she pulled herself onto the roof. She stared out at the skyline, her arms wrapped tightly around her, as she counted silently to twenty, trying to force herself to calm down.

Soon, logic replaced panic and her mind began to function properly again. She sat down, drawing her knees against her chest and began to weigh her options. Hours passed yet Princess remained on the roof, long after she had came to a well thought out decision.

She sigh, leaning back, continuing to stare out at the city. She could hear more and more Newsies entering the bunkroom, their loud, teasing voices floating through the open windows. The wind took on a certain smell soon too, ink and smoke, the scent of the Newsies.

Princess was shocked as tears once again filled her eyes. In only a few short weeks this reeking, filthy, broken building had become her home. And her logical decision to leave it and it's inhabitants was breaking her heart.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Jack's voice asked from behind her, causing Princess to jump to her feet. Jack and Mush stood near the fire escape and she got the impression that they had been there awhile.

"I'se always comes here ta thin'." Jack continued lighting a cigarette and staring out at the skyline. "What's you'se plan, Princess." Her reply was short but the hardest thing she had ever had to say, "I'm leaving,"

Mush opened his mouth but Jack cut him off. "I'se suppose dat dis is da part where'se I'se let you'se leave. But I'se not, so why wastes da oxygen?"

"This is my choice, Jack," Princess argued, "It's my life. Besides, I never meant for this to be permanent. I've told you that on several different occasions. This was only to be a place for me to hide until I could make other arrangements."

Jack looked unconvinced as he glanced at her before returning his gaze to the afternoon sky. "Stuff changes, feelin's, people, wan's, an needs. You'se don' wan' ta leave, Princess, it's written all over you'se face."

He exhaled a long stream of gray smoke before continuing, "You'se a Manhattan Newsie, Princess," Jack stated, smashing his finished cigarette under his heel. "And we'se looks afta' our own."

She watched, stunned and silent, as Jack and Mush climb back down the fire escape, wearing identical smirks of triumph. Princess knew she wasn't going anywhere and was instantly relieved and overjoyed by that knowledge. She stretched her arms towards the sun, stilling when she realized something:

She smelled of smoke and ink.

--------------------

So, there you have it

The next chapter

Right on time

Keep tune for the installment of Crying for the Moon

Pixie


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Brooklyn's Promise

The bunkroom was almost empty when Princess climbed back in through the window. A handful of boys were all ready curled up on their beds in various stages of sleep even though it was only late in the afternoon. She slipped as silently as she could through the bunkroom to the stairs. Sparks caught her hand as she passed his bunk. "You'se leavin' us, Princess?" His small, high voice shook as his eyes filled with tears. "I'se likes havin' you'se here. I'se don' want you'se ta leave!"

Princess sat on the edge of the lumpy bed, pulling the small, sniffling boy into her arms, rocking him gently as she stroked his curly hair. "Its okay, Sparks," She whispered, hugging him tightly to her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" He asked hastily wiping away the tears in his eyes, looking up at her hopefully. Princess felt her heart go out to this little boy as feelings of shame welled up inside of her. How could she so selfishly decide to leave him when he needed her so badly?

She kissed his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes, "I promise," She stated. He stuck out his pinkie finger, still looking doubtful, "Pinkie promise?" Princess laughed again, hugging the Sparks before hooking her pinkie around his, "Double pinkie promise." She promised, "Now, more importantly, do you know where Jack and the others are?"

Sparks stuck out his lower lip, glaring and pouting at the same time at the scratched floor. "They're gettin' ready ta go ta Brooklyn," He supplied, sounding absolutely pitiful. "Spot asked dem ta play poker tonigh' but Jack says dat I'se can' go!"

Princess laughed again, ruffling his curls once more before sliding off the bed. "He's right, Sparks, you're too young to play poker with the older boys. Give it time, you'll be invited along soon enough but for right now, worry more about what you're going to do with the rest of the day. You shouldn't be inside on a beautiful day like today."

Sparks took on a thoughtful look, tapping his chin with a dirty finger. He jumped off the bed, rushing out of the bunkroom, pausing at the door to wave goodbye before disappearing down the stairs. Princess could hear him as he called out to his friends, she laughed again as she traveled down the steps.

A chorus of greeting echoed through the lobby as Princess came into sight. Sure enough, many of the boys were dressed in their 'best' clothing, chatting excitedly about the poker games. Their excitement caused Princess to smile as she walked over to Jack and Mush. Blink and Race glared slightly at her as she hoisted herself up onto the desktop.

"What?" Blink stated, anger and pain coloring his tone, "You'se done packin' all ready?" He crossed his arms, glaring darkly at his scuffed shoes as Race scowled at his fixed dice as he rolled them around in his hand. "Wells, if you'se just heres ta say goodbye," Blink continued, "Don' waste you'se breath, I'se ain't got nothin' ta say to you'se."

Princess hopped down, dusting the back of her skirt before she wrapped her arms around Blink's shoulders; pulling the stunned Newsie into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," She stated softly against his shoulder, tightening her hold. His arms came around her slowly, gently, like he was holding a porcelain doll, "I'm sorry that I doubted you boys. I'm sorry that I didn't trust you and hurt you. I'm so very sorry."

She pulled away, looking from Blink to Race, tears shimmering in her amethyst eyes. "Please," She whispered, "Please forgive me for being so blind." A blanket of silence hung over the lobby, more deafening then the boy's chit-chat had been moments before.

"You'se forgot stupid and selfish," Race said, draping an arm around her shoulders; his dark eyes sparkling as the surrounding boys let out sighs of relief and laughs. "But, since you'se said you'se was sorry, we'll forgive ya."

"But just dis once!" Blink warned, tugging at her braid. Princess laughed, relief flooding her. She hugged Race, then Blink as the loud conversations started up again. "You'se coming tonigh'?" Race asked as Princess leaned back against the desk.

She cocked her head slightly, her thick braid swinging over her shoulder. "To Brooklyn?" The memory of Spot and Shooter came into her mind. Honestly, she wanted to stay as far away from Brooklyn and its leader as humanly possible.

"Yeah," Mush answered, "We'se wanna shows you'se off. Ain't one no gots a prettier goil Newsie dan us! And we'se wanna prove it."

"Nobody else gots a goil Newsie," Race laughed, nudging Mush in the ribs. Mush glared at him, rubbing his side, "Fine den, she at least prettier dan alls of da floozies dats gonna be'se dere's."

"Floozies?" Princess asked, glancing at the boys. This was sounding less and less like a good idea. "Da factory goils dat hang arou' da Brooklyn Lodging House." Jack explained, carefully choosing his words. "Dey, uh, dey likes ta blow off a little steam wid' da Spot's Newsies."

Princess' eyes grew wide as Jack's words sunk in, "Oh," She said, her cheeks coloring slightly. Their impish smiles cause Princess to blush even more, dropping her gaze to the floor. She could tell that they wanted her to go with them but something in the pit of her stomach told her that the best thing to do was to hide under her covers and remain there until morning.

"Come with us," Blink pleaded, "We'se promise dat nothin' wills happen ta ya." She glanced at him, instantly wishing she hadn't. The sheer yearning in his visable eye made her wanted to agree to anything he asked. Blink had a way of doing that to her.

Princess hesitated, glancing from boy to boy. Jack was finally won her over when he gave her the 'puppy dog' look. "All right," She sighed, "You win, I'll go." The boys let out a whoop, dancing around like monkeys, causing Princess to burst out laughing. "Let me brush out my hair and pull on a clean blouse."

The boys urged her to hurry as Princess gracefully walked to her bathroom. Once she had forced the door shut, she let out another sigh. "What am I doing?" She asked the cracked, plastered ceiling. She repeated the question over and over in her head as she unbraided her hair and began to pull her comb with the wavy lochs. A dark, unsettling feeling sank into her stomach.

Something was going to happen tonight. And Princess prayed that it was something other than trouble.

---------------------

The sun had set by the time they walked into the Brooklyn Lodging House lobby. Princess was surprised at how large the lobby was. When you first came through the door you're greeted by a large open fireplace. Eight large, round tables were scattered around the lobby, taking up much of the floor space. A large dark wood desk was built into the wall to the right of the door.

A long hallway was just to left of the entryway, four large cracked and dusty doors lined it. On the far end of the door, stood a step of dark wood stairs leading up to the next floor. Princess could hear the shouts and laughter of the Brooklyn Newsies as it echoed down the steps.

The floor was a dark hardwood; they gleamed dirtily in the light. The walls were painted a dark, forest green; faded now into a lesser color. Princess was actually surprised as she spotted a large bookcase wedged between the steps and the fireplace mantle. It was so covered in books that the shelves were sagging in the middle, threatening to give away at any moment.

The very bottom shelf was covered in liquor bottles of various size and color. The sheer number of them caused Princess to raise a delicate brow. She glanced questionably at Mush who just smiled and shrugged.

A large padded, armchair was pulled up to the largest table, looking far less ratty and uncomfortable than the rickety chairs that surrounded it. She had a very good idea as to the person that sat in the chair. A pair of small, twin boys were setting out cards and poker chips on the tables. Glancing up momentarily from their task before calling in unison for Spot.

"Frick an' Frack," Mush whispered in her ear, "Spot's youngest Newsies an' his best boirds."

"Birds?" Princess asked, cocking her head slightly towards Mush, continuing to study the small boys. "Spot's spies," Mush supplied, careful to keep his voice low, "If dere's anyting happenin' in New Yok, dey knows."

Princess shivered, wrapping her arms around herself; feeling, suddenly, extremely vulnerable. If Spot knew everything that went on in the city, then he must know about her.

Would he tell? Princess trusted the Manhattan Newsies with her life but Brooklyn was a different story. They had nothing to gain by remaining silent. Princess could only pray.

Moments later Spot and his Newsies filed down the steps, stopping as Spot and Shooter walked toward them. Mush gently pulled her back as Jack slipped in front of her.

Princess wrinkled her nose in disgust as Spot and Jack spit in their hands before shaking them. "Glad dats you'se could makes it, Jacky-boy," Spot stated coolly. The arrogance in his tone caused Princess' skin to prickle. "I'se been hearin' somes pretty interestin' tings about you'se lately. Someting about you'se takin' ins a runway."

Princess felt Mush stiffen, one arm coming around her shoulders, the other around her waist, ever so slowly pulling her deeper into the crowd of Manhattan Newsies. The tension in the room escalated dramatically, putting all the Newsies on edge. "What about it?" Jack asked, crossing his arms.

"Taken' in runaways is dangerous enough, Jack-boy," Spot replied, "But taken' in dat goil is a death wish." Jack looked unimpressed, glaring levelly at Spot, "Who'd ever thought dat da great Spot Colon would be'se scared of a little goil."

Spot glared darkened as he pulled out his cane, slamming against the floor. "I'se ain't scared of nobody," He snarled. Jack smirked, looking highly amused as Spot growled at him, "Dats not how's its looks ta me."

Spot let out an animalistic snarl, stepping towards Jack. Princess broke away from Mush, pushing her way through the Newsies to get to Jack's side. She slid herself in between the two leaders, shoving Spot away from Jack. She wasn't sure who was more surprised by her actions, Jack, Spot, or herself but she was far too angry to care at the moment.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She snapped, glaring at Spot. Her amethyst eyes clashing with his stormy blues. "Telling Jack what he can or can't do, how to run his Newsies. And how dare you act like you're so much better than us, simple because you're Spot Colon. You are nothing more than a pompous, bloated windbag, in love with his own ego."

"And secondly," Princess continued, ignoring the collective gasp that resounded in the lobby, her eyes blazing as her hair fanned out wildly behind her, "If you have a problem with me, you take it up with me, not Jack. What happens in Manhattan is none of your damn business!"

Seconds ticked by almost audibly as everyone waited for Spot's reaction. He reached out, catching her chin in a painful grip. Spot pulled her closed until she feel the warmth of his breath caressing her cheeks; tilting her head back until she was looking directly into his eyes.

"Ta tink dat da only daughter of Victor Von Trent, da tobacco tycoon of New Yok, would be'se standin' ups for da likes of a street rat." Spot stated smoothly. Princess felt her heart stop as her father's name fell from Spot's lips. But she refused to show her sudden panic to Spot.

"I don't know who you're talking about," She replied evenly, glaring up at him. Amusement flickered in his eyes, turning them a brilliant blue. "My name is Princess. Nothing more than a runaway and a street rat. Just like you."

Spot laughed a deep sound that echoed off the lobby walls. He stepped away, bowing slightly at the waist. "Welcomes ta Brooklyn, Princess," Spot said, turning to drop gracefully into his chair.

Both groups of Newsies moved then, taking chairs around the different tables. Jack's stepped around her, whispering softly as he passed, "You'se just won da respect of da most powerful Newsie in New Yok."

Mush's arm came around her waist, leading her to the table farthest from Spot. She slipped into the uncomfortable chair, Mush to her left, Blink to her right, her back to Spot. Her heart hammered uncomfortably as she watched some unknown Brooklyn Newsie deal out the cards.

She touched Mush's arm, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "Don't ever let me do anything like that again."

---------------------

Only a few hands of poker had been played before the sounds of high pitched voices wafted in through the open door. Princess glanced over her shoulder at the nine girls that had just entered the lodging house. They stood in the doorway looking like a flock of tropical birds in their poorly dyed dresses that showed far more than it needed to as many of the necklines plunged dangerously low.

The nauseating smell of cheap perfume invaded Princess' senses causing her eyes to water. The girls wore far too much make-up giving them the look of street performers. They all eyed the Newsies like a cat eyes a mouse.

A tall, blonde in a blindingly bright blue dress slid forward, crossing her arms under her ample bosom. "Spot," She whined, her voice almost painfully high, "You didn't tell me that Manhattan would be here."

"Guess I'se forgot ta mentio' it, Carmel," Spot replied, not looking up from his hand. The girl frowned slightly at Spot, obviously angered at his lack of attention. She snapped her fingers and the rest of the girls began to slide through the tables, curling themselves around random Newsies.

A petite black haired beauty walked around their table, lightly running her hand along each boy's shoulders before settling into the lap of the Brooklyn Newsie sitting across from Mush. Her pale green eyes slid over Princess menacingly, judging her. Princess lifted her chin, staring back challengingly.

"Hey, Carmel," The girl called, a slight Spanish accent coloring her words. "Looks like some hussy is trying to move in on your turf." Carmel, who had been curled around Spot, stiffened, her head coming up to glare at Princess.

"She must be lost," Carmel said, straightening. Spot caught her wrist as she slid her arms off his shoulders, his grip tight and painful. "Don' touch her," Spot warned his voice dark and terrifyingly cold. He dropped her hand turning his attention back to the game.

Carmel looked stunned looking from Spot to Princess. Her vivid brown eyes narrowed, glaring death at Princess. Mush shifted closer to Princess, draping an arm over the back of her chair.

Carmel just shrugged, wrapping her arms around Spot's shoulders, her fingertips brushing against his chest. The night continued on, money quickly exchanging hands as the tides of fortune flowed for some and dwindled for other. Liquor flowed like water while wisps of smoke danced through the lobby until the wind stole it out the open door.

The girls sauntered from Newsie to Newsie, paying more attention to the winners than any other. Several had already disappeared up the stairs with eager Newsies from both Manhattan and Brooklyn, sly smiles covering their faces.

Carmel remained, hanging mostly on Spot and Jack. Princess had caught her glaring at her many times through the night but ignored it. The Brooklyn Newsies seemed to have accepted her, teasing and talking to her as if she was one of their own. Princess smiled and laughed at their stories and jokes before regaling them with ones of her own.

Fish, a tall, lanky red haired Brooklyn Newsie, had just finished telling her about his adventures stowing away on a Mississippi steamboat. He reached for a bottle of whiskey, frowning fiercely when it was empty.

"Damn," He mumbled, shaking the bottle over his widely opened mouth, pouting slightly when nothing came out, "Princess, can you'se nab a bottle froms Spot's table? I'se thin' dey's da only ones dat have anythin' in 'em."

Princess laughed a bright musical sound that caused many Newsies to turn and smile at her. She weaved through the chairs coming out in between Jack and Spot. Carmel's head shot away from the Newsie she had been flirting with, pinning Princess with a chilling glare. "What'se up, Princess?" Jack asked, tossing in a penny into the growing pile.

"I'm stealing a bottle of your liquor," She informed him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at his cards. Two pair, tens and jacks; not bad. "We ran out at our table."

"Tells Fish ta comes and gets it'se himself," Spot stated, raising Jack's bet. Princess slid over to him, touching his arm lightly to get him to show her his cards. A straight, beats Jack's hand and probably everyone else's too.

Princess straightened, tossing her thick hair back over her shoulder. "I'm all ready here," She replied softly, reaching for the closest half full bottle, "I might as well grab it for him."

Spot caught her hand as she began to move away, tugging her to a stop. "Dere's a price on dat bottle, Princess," He stated. Princess laughed, shaking her head at the Brooklyn leader, "Oh, really? And what would that be?"

"A kiss," He replied, his eyes sparkling. Princess smiled as she pulled her hand away. "I'll tell Fish to take care of it!" She called over her shoulder, laughing lightly. The lobby exploded into laughter, even Spot was smiling as the impish Princess handed the brown bottle to a delighted Fish.

Carmel's glare intensified as she leaned back against the mantle place, watching as Princess laughed with her table. "Is she good in bed too, Spot?" Carmel asked; crossing her arms again, scowling at Spot's back.

"Watch you'se mouth, Carmel," Jack snarled as he glared the girl. "She'se ones of my Newsies and ain't nones of you'se concern." Carmel laughed; a sound that caused Princess' skin to crawl, the lobby quickly lost the happy feeling that had settled over it.

"A girl Newsie?" She turned back toward Princess a small smile tugging at her painted lips, "Must be a tough life, having no choice but to become a Newsie. Maybe you should try the brothels, no, wait I don't think they take animals."

Mush and Jack shot to their feet as the remaining girls snickered loud. Princess caught Mush's hand as he started towards Carmel, rising to her feet with the grace and elegance of a goddess. She seemed to gild across the floor as she moved near Carmel, stopping only a few feet away from the blonde. "There was a saying my mother use to tell me," Princess stated, pinning Carmel with her haughtiest gaze, "Always better to be an animal than to be a repulsive whore."

Carmel's face contorted with rage as she flung herself at Princess, slamming into her and pulling her to the floor. Spot shot out of his chair, yanking Carmel away from Princess, and throwing her against the mantel. Carmel stared up at him in shock. "I'se told you'se not ta touch her," Spot growled, glaring at Carmel, "She'se a Newsie an' heres cause I'se invited her, meanin' she'se under my protectio'."

Spot turned away from Carmel, returning to his chair and his cards. Carmel staggered to her feet, tears causing her eyes to glisten. Her gaze caught Princess', but there was no anger or hatred burning in her eyes. Something else, something much more painful shone through, pain, humiliation, shame; emotions not easily dealt with.

The girls stared at each other until Mush swept Princess into his arms, checking her over for injuries, letting out a relieved sigh when he found none. "You'se certainly in a mood tonigh', Princess," He said with a laugh, hugging the girl tightly to him. Princess nuzzled closer to him, peeking out to glance again at Carmel.

Her head was down, her hand fisted tightly as her small shoulders shook. Carmel ran out the lobby and into the dark street, a small sob escaping her. Many of the girls snickered, stopping instantly when Princess glared at them.

"I'll be back," She promised Mush, taking off after Carmel. She heard Mush's and Blink's protest but ignored them as she rushed after Carmel. Princess spotted her less than half a block away, kneeling under a lit street lamp, her arms tightly around herself as she sobbed.

"Carmel," Princess said moving closer to the girl. "Don't touch me!" Carmel cried, shrugging away from Princess. She continued to sob, rocking herself slightly. Princess knelt down, careful not to touch Carmel.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, resting her hands in her lap. "I shouldn't have said that, Carmel. Please forgive me."

Carmel quieted, uncurling enough to glance up at Princess. She slowly accepted the small linen handkerchief that Princess was offering, carefully dabbing away her tears. She clutched the now damp handkerchief tightly, staring passed Princess to the docks just on the other side of the street.

"I'm sorry too," She murmured, continuing to stare at the black waters of the river. "I don't know why but when I saw you so at ease with them, talking and laughing, I felt so unbelievably jealous of you."

"I've known those boys for years, practically grew up with them but they never laughed or talked with me." Carmel admitted. "All of them seem to see you in a different way then they see me. Even Spot acts differently towards you, smiling and joking even though he's the bogie-man of the Newsies."

"I didn't have a choice you know," She continued on, looking at Princess now. "Or at least I didn't think I had any other choices. It was just the easiest one. I suppose that's what really made me mad; you chose something that I didn't even consider. I never wanted to be a whore, I really didn't."

Carmel started to cry again, flinging herself into Princess' arms. She let Carmel cry, knowing that she needed to. She stroked her hair, rocking slightly. "Carmel, why don't you try selling papers?" Princess offered, once Carmel had calmed down.

Carmel pulled away, wiping her now bloodshot eyes with the heel of her palm. "Be a Newsie?" She asked, sniffling gently.

Princess nodded, taking Carmel's hands in her own, "Yes, why couldn't you be? Granted, it's hard work but at least you would out of the brothel. I could teach you if you'd like and we can talk to Kloppman in the morning." Tears welled up in Carmel's eyes again, streaking down her reddened cheeks, "You'd do that for me?" She asked, "After everything I've said to you?"

"I said some pretty nasty things too," Princess reminded her, "We could start over if you'd like." She stood, holding her hand out to Carmel. "My name is Princess; I'm Manhattan's newest and only girl Newsie."

Carmel laughed, wiping away her tears before standing and taking Princess' hand, "Hi, I'm Carmel. I'd like to try to be a Newsie."

"Really?" Princess gasped, acting perfectly surprised, "That's great, and I know this great girl Newsie who'd love to someone other than boys to talk to. Speaking of boys we should probably get back to them. They don't like it when I'm out of their sight for too long."

"They really care for you, don't they?" Carmel asked as they began the short walk back to the lodging house. Princess nodded, smiling, "Yes and I really, truly care for them too. I've only been with them for about six weeks but they mean more to me than my own life. I don't know what I'd do without them."

Spot and Jack were waiting for them outside of the lodging house. Carmel hesitated, leaning closer to Princess. "Do you think that they'll let me stay?" The boys looked less than happy.

"Of course," Princess answered instantly, pulling her along. "They're actually very sweet."

"What'se in hell's name is wrong wit' you'se?" Spot snarled, storming down the steps to rip Princess away from Carmel, shaking her lightly, "You'se coulda been rapped, mugged, an' killed!"

"Spot! Let her go!" Carmel snapped. "Stay's outta dis, Carmel" Spot growled, glaring at the girl, "Jack, gets her'se inside." Jack stiffened but pulled Carmel through the doorway, ignoring her protests.

"Spot," Princess said, struggling slightly, "You're hurting me."

"I'se should be beatin' you'se," Spot snarled, "Do you'se knows dat every Bull in da city lookin' for you'se? Jesus Christ, Princess, what would you'se had done if ones of dem saw you'se?"

He stomped away from her, letting out a stream of colorful cuss words, running his hands through his golden hair. She was about to tare into him when something dawned on her. "You were concerned about me?" She asked.

"No," Spot stated, turning back to her, "But Jack an' da others were. You'se don' get it, Princess, if something' happen ta you'se, Jack wouldn' be'se able ta deal wid' it. You'se Manhattan's only weakness. A weakness dat Bronx and Queens will do anythin' ta get deir' hands on."

"Why?" Princess asked; the hollow feeling in her stomach surface again. "Territory, power," Spot supplied, "Dey wants Manhattan and Brooklyn and dey's willin' ta kill ta gets it."

Princess gasped, her hand covering her mouth. Spot glanced at her, "Dis is part of da reason why Jack asked a couple of day ago if you'se could stay in Brooklyn. Me an' my boys cans protec' you'se bette' dan Manhattan cans."

"Dis is whys I'se did this littl' get ta gether, ta see if you'se worth protectin'." Spot continued, grabbing her hand and pulling her back towards the lodging house. "You'se gots spirit, Princess, and you'se loyal too. Nothin' likes the spoiled rich goil you'se use ta be. Dis is whys I'se promised Jack dat I'se would do anythin' ta keep you'se safe."

Spot stopped in the doorway, the light encasing him in almost a heavenly glow, "Welcomes ta Brooklyn, Princess."

---------------------

Okay,

Here's the newest version of Chapter Four!

It had too many mistakes for me to handle.

Hope you all still like it!

Pixie


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Learning to Cry

"It'se only fors a littl' whiles, Princess," Jack promised her as he handed her small sack of belongings. "An' Spot willin' ta takes you'se ta Manhattan anytimes you'se wan'." Princess didn't say anything as she stared at Jack, betrayal shining brightly in her eyes.

Jack jammed his hands into his pockets, stiffly turning away from the silent girl, joining the growing group of Newsies that had already said their goodbyes. Mush came forward slowly, looking guilty and sad. He cupped her face in his callous hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Don't leave me here," She pleaded softly, her voice shaking.

"We'se can' protec' ya likes dey cans," Mush stated, "Dey'll keeps you'se safe an' we'll sees you'se all da time." He shoved a crumpled five dollar bill into her bag. "Kloppman sold dat necklace of you'se. Dis should takes care of you'se while's you'se here. Dere's mores at da lodgin' house if you'se need it."

"Don't leave me," Princess whispered again, gripping his hands tightly. Mush just gave her a sad smile, kissing her forehead before moving away. "You'se gonna be'se fine," He promised, backing down the steps. Princess clutched her bag tightly against her chest as she watched her Newsies disappear from view.

She was sitting numbly on the bottom step when Carmel found her, clutching her own sack of belongings. "Come on, Princess," She said, gently pulling the girl to her feet. "Lets get inside, and then you can pass out on a bed."

Princess was actually surprised at how good that sounded. Utter silence filled the lobby when they came through the door. No one moved, no one spoke; Princess wasn't even sure if anyone was breathing. They paid Jefferson, a craggy; mean looking mild-aged man with half a head of thin, oily hair and a permanent sneer, their rent for the month before he rudely motioned them away.

Fish stumbled forward, twisting his hat in his hands, "You'se two cans haves the room at da end of da hall," He muttered to the floor, his cheeks burning. "Da middle doors are a bathroom and shower, and da last room Spot's."

Carmel dropped her hands onto her hips glaring at Fish, "Stop acting like a fool," She snapped, glaring at the rest of the gathered boys in the lobby, "All of you, I've known most of you since we were crawling around in the gutters and you all seemed to be getting along just fine with Princess last night. Now, stop sulking about like we got the plague or something."

She grabbed Princess' hand, yanking her down the hallway and into their room before slamming the door. The room was small, two beds shoved on either wall, a large dirty window between them. A small, beaten up dresser sat across from the window. Everything smelled of sweat and cigarettes.

Princess and Carmel exchanged a worried look. Carmel dropped her belongings on the bed to the left, thick clouds of dust flying into the air, causing both girls to sneeze and cough. Princess wiped off the window as best as she could before opening it, the warm breeze instantly freshening up the room. "I'll shake out the blankets," Princess offered, turning back towards Carmel, "If you want to see if you can find a rag to clean with. We'll have this room looking, and more importantly, smelling better before the rest of the boys get back from selling."

Carmel smiled, giving Princess a small salute before disappearing out the door. Princess began the task of gathering up the blankets and hauling them out the window and onto the rusty fire escape. She shook them out, her eyes tightly clenched shut, sending the years of dust out into the warm air. When everything was thoroughly shaken, she draped them over the railing, letting them air out while she and Carmel cleaned the room.

Finally, after several long hours of continuous cleaning, their room looked brand new. The wooden floor gleamed beautifully; the walls and ceiling were free from dust and cobwebs. The window was sparklingly clean and the bedding smelled fresh.

They had taken down the ratty, faded floral curtains and draped a long, rich purple, gauze wrap along the top of the windowsill, the tasseled ends fluttered lightly in the afternoon breeze. Everything felt and smelled clean and fresh.

Princess was laying on her lumpy yet clean bed, listening to the sounds of the river that floated through the open window. Carmel was sitting on her bed, surrounded by sheets and sheets of cheap, white paper, muttering under her breath.

"What are those, Carmel?" Princess asked, sitting up. It took Carmel a moment to realize that she had spoken at all. "Huh? Oh, these, just some doodles." Carmel supplied, shuffling through the stacks of papers. She handed a few to Princess before shoving most of them into the bottom drawer of the dresser, fighting to get it closed again.

Princess stared down at the drawings in her hands, they were amazing. The top picture was of a ballerina, her limber arms and legs thrown out wide as she leaped through the air. The dancer's face was turned up towards the heavens, a look of pure joy resting on her beautiful face. Her long blonde hair was free, streaming out behind her like a cape, a net of white rosebuds was the only attempt at taming the wild lochs. Princess could almost feel the silky smoothness of her formfitting costume. Brightly colored roses were strewed about stage, each beautifully detailed.

It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. "Carmel," She gasped, flipped through the papers. Each one was exquisitely detail, so full of life and emotion; Princess was waiting for them to leap off the paper and onto the floor. "These are exquisite."

"What?" Carmel asked, looking slightly offended. Princess laughed again, "It means beautiful, amazing, superb; take your pick. I haven't seen anything like these before."

"You really like them?" Carmel asked hesitantly, joining Princess on her bed. "Carmel, they're amazing." Princess stated again, staring back down at the ballerina, "Do you think we could hang some of them up? Our walls are so bare."

Carmel looked around the room; the cracked, scuffed, faded walls stared back. They were a horrid olive green color, making the whole room seem like it was ill. She looked back at her drawings, she had drawn and colored them the best she could, being that she had little money to spend on proper art supplies but at least they were better than ill looking walls.

"That's a great idea," Carmel stated, retrieving the rest of her hidden drawings, handing them to Princess before dashing out of the room in search for tape. Many were of castles, mystical creatures, knights and princesses. The rest were of real life people and place, Princess even found some of the Brooklyn Newsies buried in the pile.

One in particular caught and held her attention. It was of Spot, his head down, his hair hiding his eyes. In his hand was clenched a single red rose, the only splash of color, that and the blood that dripped from his hand. Everything else was dark, lonely, and sad.

"I don't know why I drew it," Carmel said softly, startling Princess so badly that she jumped to her feet, spinning around to face Carmel; a small cry escaping her lips. Carmel smiled apologetically before stooping down to retrieve the fallen drawing of Spot. "I know that he's arrogant, cruel, even stupid at times; but for some reason, this is how I see him."

"I'm not sure if we should hang it up though," She whispered, an impish glint returning to her eyes, "Spot has a big enough head as it is, I think if we hung a picture of him on our walls his head would explode."

Princess laughed, instantly agreeing. Soon the walls were covered in bright drawings, making the room feel comfortable. Shouts and laughter echoed through their open door, interrupting their conversation about their favorite fairy-tales. "I think the boys are back," Princess stated, staring out the door. "You think?" Carmel asked from her seat half way out the window, "And here I just thought that someone let loose a cage full of monkeys. Silly me."

"Ha, ha, ver' funn', Carmel," Shooter snarled from the doorway, causing both girls to jump, nearly causing poor Carmel to go out the window. "What do you want, Shooter?" Carmel snapped, straightening herself, her feet firmly on the floor.

Shooter sneered at Carmel, a horrid action that twisted his face into a hideous mask, "Spot wants you'se two in da lobby, now." He stomped off, obviously angry at the fact that he had been reduced to a messenger.

Carmel stuck her tongue out at his retreating form before hauling Princess to her feet, "Come on, girl, we had better go see what his pain-in-the-butt highness wants." Princess laughed, following Carmel out the door, closing it softly behind her, "Knowing our luck," She replied, "It'll be our heads on a silver platter."

Carmel tossed her a smile over her shoulder before entering the lobby. Boys were all over, wrestling, gambling, talking, fighting, teasing, yelling; and Spot sat in the middle of it all like a king on his throne, several boys around him; all vying for his attention.

The girls forced their way through the thick crowd, most of the time, shoving boys from their path. Spot glanced up as they neared the table. He motioned for them to sit before sending most of the boys away; only two remained, Shooter, who was leaning back against the mantle, fingering his slingshot, glaring at the girls.

The other was a tall, good looking brown haired boy, Princess had never seen before. His eyes were the most vivid color of green she had ever seen before, a deep gorgeous green. He offered her a small, friendly smile before smilingly widely at Carmel, who returned his smile with a flirting smile of her own.

"You'se goils didn' goes sellin' today." Spot stated, his deep voice stealing Princess' attention back to him. He looked at ease, relaxed, like he had all the time in the world. His blonde hair was free from his usual charcoal colored hat, glinting softly in the sunlight that was streaming through the windows and door. His thin red and white checkered shirt was unbuttoned several buttons, showing a good portion of his toned chest. His eyes were bright and clear and were fixed on Princess.

"We wanted sometime to settle in," Carmel replied, meeting his gaze head on, "We'll start selling tomorrow."

Spot looked amused as he leaned back in his chair, "Oh, you'se will, will you'se?" He asked, his notorious smirk settling over his lips, "And who'se gonna be'se you'se partners?"

"Carmel and I will sell together," Princess stated, lifting her chin slightly, "I just need you to tell me where the circulation center is and an open selling spot. I can take care of the rest."

Spot actually had the audacity to laugh at her, "Try again, Princess," He told her, fingering the tip of his cane. "I'se promis' Jack dat I'se wouldn' lets you'se out of my sighs' for nothin'. You'se sellin' wit' me tomorrow, Carmel cans sell wit Ace." He motion to the seated Newsie, who smiled again at Carmel.

Princess slammed her hands on top of the table, sending her chair tumbling to the floor; all ready sick of the Brooklyn leader. "You have no right to tell me who I can sell with, Spot," She snapped, glaring at Spot, who just raised an eyebrow. "I'm not one of your Newsies and I'm certain as all hell that I'm not one of your whores. So stop ordering me around."

All amusement vanished from Spot's face, his eyes becoming chillingly dark. He stood slowly, lethally, like a lion moving in for the kill. Princess' heart leaped into her throat as Spot neared her. He grabbed her by her arm, yanking her through the now silent mass of Newsies and into his room.

He kicked the door shut before throwing her roughly against it, caging her between it and his body. She remained utterly still as fear and defiance warred with each other inside of her. Spot grabbed her chin, wrenching it up to a painful angle so she could see the pure fury in his eyes.

"Don' tink for one secon' dat I'se doin' any of dis for you'se," He growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Da only reason you'se still breathin' is cause Jack promis' ta fight wit' me agains' da Bronx an' Queens."

"But, goes agains' me again in fron' of my boys, an' I'se throw you'se over da bridge." Spot vowed sinisterly, tightening his already painful grip on her chin. Princess eyes narrowed, her own gaze turning into an almost black. "Do it, Colon," She taunted darkly, her voice low, "Do it, throw me over the bridge, no ones going to care anyway; just save yourself the trouble and do it now."

If it was possible, Spot's eyes darkened even more, he swiftly backhanded her, sending Princess crashing into his dresser. She struggled upright, clutching her burning cheek. Spot grabbed her, pulling her up and slamming her back against the solid door. He grabbed a handful of her thick hair, using it to snap her head back to look at him.

"How dares you'se talk abou' death likes dat," His voice a mere whisper of sound yet it chilled the blood in her veins. "I'se don' knows why, but dere's are some people in dis worl' dat cares abou' wha' happen' ta you'se worthless carcass. You'se can' imagine da pain dat dey woul' feel seein' you'se floatin' face down in da riva."

He flung her to the dirty floor, staring at her like she was some kind of unholy abomination, "Just tinkin' dat makes you'se nothin' dan a spoiled, selfish, worthless waste of space an' air." He stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard the wall cracked.

Princess drew herself up slowly, her parent's voices blurring with Spot's. And as much as she tried to fight it, memories she had thought she had locked away forever began to flood her mind.

_**You are worthless; it disgusts me that I gave birth to you. **_

_I tried; I tried so hard to please you. I wanted to make you proud of me. Please, please be proud_.

_**You are not trying hard enough, Carina, I demand perfection! You are useless. Useless! I have shot dogs that were better than you! **_

_I do try and I'll try harder. I'll become prefect, I will, I promise. No, No! Please, please don't lock me inside! Please! I'll do better! No, NO!_

_**You ungrateful, little hussy! I should have thrown you down the sewers when I had the chance! How dare you disobey me!**_

_I'm sorry. I know I'm a disappointment. I know that I've never given you a reason to love me, to be proud of me. _

_**I should throw you out on the streets! You would be dead with in a day. No one would even pay you to be their whore! You are that worthless!**_

_I know I don't deserve any of the things you gave me. I'm worthless, ugly, imperfect. Why should you keep me? _

_**You'se nothin' dan a spoiled, selfish, worthless waste of space an' air.**_

_You're right. I am selfish; all I can do is think of myself. It's all I've ever done. My selfishness cost me the love of my parents, all they wanted was perfection. My selfishness cost me your respect._

_I'm too selfish to live but to afraid to die. _

Princess remained curled up on Spot's floor silently watching as the sun gave way to the darkness. Tears burned in the back of her eyes, a familiar pain as was the sharp stab of hunger that had begun to consume her stomach. Many times she had heard the sound of Carmel's voice through the door, begging Shooter to let her pass. Shooter's answer was always the same: "No' til Spot gets back."

It was nearly pitch black in the small room when finally Princess moved. Her stiff muscles protested mightily at their sudden usage as she made her way to the already open window and onto the fire escape. Once on the street the only sound was her shoes on the cobblestone street as she made her way towards the monstrous shadow that was the Brooklyn Bridge.

---------------------

The chilling wind lashed at Princess, causing her hair to dance and move like living snakes. Her legs moved automatically, bringing her closer and closer to the bridge until cobblestone turned to metal and the sound of rushing water flooded forward to meet her.

She continued on until there was nothing but bridge in front of her and bridge behind. That's when she saw it, at first it was nothing more than a glowing dot, hanging in mid-air. As she drew closer more of the picture came into view. Spot was leaning back against the cold metal side of the bridge, a lit cigarette resting between his lips.

Princess didn't speak as she moved next to him, leaning her arms against side of the bridge, leaning over so she could see the black, inky waters below. They stood there, the only sounds between them was the water and wind.

"They killed themselves, didn't they," Princess stated, still not taking her eyes off the rushing water. Spot didn't answer, crushing his finished cigarette beneath the toe of his shoe. He pulled his hat off his head, running his fingers through his hair before pulling it back on.

"Are you'se gonna jump?" He asked, staring up at the cloudy, gray sky. "I asked first," Princess stated.

"Yes," Spot answered, "Da only goil I'se eve' loved."

"No," Princess whispered, "I'm too scared to jump. What happened?"

Spot lit another cigarette before answering, "She'se worked' in a factor' an' starte' havin' a affair wit' da manager son. She'se found out dat she'se was pregnant an' when she tol' him; he tol' her'se dat it wasn' his problem an' left her'se. Less dan a week late', she'se jumped off da bridge. She'se left me a rose an' lette' sayin' goodbye. Why dids you'se runaway?"

"My parents being who they are wanted their daughter to be prefect, a shining example of societies' expectation of a girl of my status." Princess stated, "I never met their expectations, not once and I was punished for it, brutally. What was her name?"

Spot exhaled a stream of gray smoke, watching it as it vanished into the sky, "Danielle, why did you pick the Newsies?"

"They had something I wanted to experience before I started running." Princess said; shivering slightly as the wind licked over her again. Spot moved closer, pressing his side against hers. Warmth flooded her almost instantly. "How long did you know her and when did you start to love her?"

"Dats two questions." Spot stated.

Princess said, "Just answer them."

"Danielle an' I'se had knowns each other since we'se weres kids. I'se loved her'se from da very first time I'se saw her'se but I'se neve' tol' her'se," Spot's voice shook a little when he answered, his pain evident in his voice. "You'se turn, hows you'se gets away an' what's they did ta ya."

"I came up with a plan to make it seem like I was mugged then murdered after stepping outside for a breath of fresh air at Manhattan's Opera house. I had hoped that my parents would accept this but it seems that they weren't fooled." Princess bit her lower lip, "They often would beat me, make me go without food for days, lock me in the cellar or broom closet. I'm scared of locked doors and small places to this day. I should have tried harder to please them."

"You'se tink' its you'se fault!"

"And you think that Danielle's death was yours?"

They looked at each other then, pain, anger, sadness, regret, remorse; it shone in both their eyes. They stared at one another a few moments longer before turning away, Spot back to the sky, Princess back to the water.

"Dere were times dat I though' dat if I'se had just tol' Danielle dat I'se loved her'se, she'se migh' stil' be'se here." Spot admitted after a long stretch of silence, "But I'se tink dat she'se already knew. No, I'se don' blame myself for her'se death."

Princess knew it was her turn to answer, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. It had been her fault, she didn't try hard enough. If she had just been content with what she had maybe she would have met her parent's expectations, then they would have been proud of her, loved her. "I was crying for the moon,"

"Wha'?"

"Crying for the moon," Princess repeated, "It means to want something you can't or shouldn't have. To cry for the moon. If I had just seen what my parents were offering me instead of what they weren't, I would have made them proud. They would have loved me. But instead I began to want a thing that I didn't have; freedom. And in my struggle to attain this freedom, I began to let them down, I wasn't trying as hard. My selfishness destroyed my chance at having my parents proud of me. It was my fault."

"Bullshit," Spot snapped, "You'se wanted what'se everyone's born wit'. Dere's nothin' wrong abou' dat." He reached down, gently tipping her chin up. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You'se shouldn' have ta earned a parent's love, dey should loves you'se cause you'se dere daughter. You'se didn' nothin' wrong. Everyone cries for da moon sometimes."

He pulled her against his lean, toned form, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "It'se okay ta cry, Princess," He murmured against her hair. "I-I don't remember how," Princess admitted against his shoulder, her fingers clutching his shirt.

"Stop fightin', Princess," Spot instructed, holding her tightly against him. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against the palm of her hand. He smelled of smoke, ink, and water; his scent comforted her, easing her mind. His arms tightened around her, drawing her deeper into his warmth. "I'se gots you'se."

A single tear slid down Princess' cheek, soaking into Spot's shirt. She flung her arms around his neck, burying her head against his neck before breaking down into soul-wrenching sobs.

---------------------

All right,

Here's Chapter Five,

Without as many mistakes!

(I'm sure there are still a few left)

Chapter Six is in the works and should be out with in a week.

Keep an eye out for it!

Pixie


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six Sunlight's Kiss 

The day was hot, the sun beating uncomfortably down on her. Even the cobblestone felt hot beneath the soles of her shoes, burning like hot coals. But, as always, Princess pushed her discomfort aside, politely thanking the fashionably dressed woman who just bought a paper; grimacing as she counted her remaining papers, she had a good twenty left.

Spot was standing behind her, leaning against the hot, red bricks of a factory building; patiently waiting for her to finish, looking far too comfortable in the heat. Princess stumbled over to him, wanting nothing more than to plunge headlong into the river then find some dark corner to spend the rest of the day in.

"I'm dying," Princess stated, leaning heavily against the building, lightly holding her stack of papers, closing her eyes. "Comes on," Spot said after a few minutes, pushing away from the wall, tugging her down the street. Princess moaned slightly, but followed him.

"You'se only gots a few more left," Spot stated, "We'se finish up sellin' at da riva front den gets some food at Skips."

Though the though of food at the moment made her stomach turn, Princess allowing Spot to lead her to the docks. The river front of a hive of noise, half naked fishers, and boat captains. But even here, feet from the waters of the river, Princess felt the blistering heat of the sun as it continued to beat down mercilessly until she was sure the river was going to boil.

She felt hot, sick, and dizzy; wanting nothing more than to lie down. But she pushed her discomfort aside, squared her shoulders and continued to call out her headlines; she had a job to do after all. Finally a stocky, white haired boat captain bought her last paper, tipping his hat to her slightly before strolling away.

Princess made her way through the crowd, stopping as waves of dizziness washed over her before receding. Spot was leaning against a stack of crates, talking with a couple of Newsies, glancing up as she drew neared.

Her cheeks were flushed, sweat beaded on her forehead, she was breathing heavily as she stumbled towards him, nearly fall several times. "Ares you'se alright, Princess?" Spot asked, worry clouding his eyes. Princess instantly offered him a small smile, gently dabbing away the sweat from her brow with her handkerchief, "Of course I'm all right."

Spot's eyes narrowed slightly but he shrugged and began to walk off the docks. Princess followed, taking a few steps when another dizzy spell came over her. She expected it to pass but it didn't; if anything it grew stronger.

Noises blended together, growing into a dull roar as the dock seemed to lurch and roll beneath her feet. Everything around whirled together in a sickening spin, causing her stomach to twist.

Princess felt her knees and hands hit the rough wood as she clenched her eyes shut, a vain attempt to make the world right itself again. She heard Spot's voice above the roar, felt his arms around her as he pulled her against him.

She forced her eyes to open, swirling colors and flashing light greeted her causing her to snap them shut again. She whimpered Spot's name as pitch darkness began to blur the edges before overcoming her completely.

--------------------

_"Princess,"_

_"Princess."_

_"Comes on, please wakes up,"_

Concerned, fear filled voices began to penetrate the darkness that held Princess captive, rousing her from her much wanted sleep. She kept her eyes closed, terrified that whirling light and figures awaited her.

The smell of smoke and ink wafted over Princess, instantly calming her; as did the feel of the lumpy mattress beneath her. She was safe and sound back at the lodging house. Ever so carefully, Princess pried her eyes open, blinking away the blurriness that clouded her vision.

Sure enough, she was lying on her bed, the window thrown wide open and the cool evening breeze dancing across her skin. Princess sat up slowly, a dull ache behind her eyes. She moved slowly, swing her feet over the side of her bed, shivering as they touched the floor. She was afraid that another dizzy spell would suddenly rush forward again, and much to her relief, it didn't.

"I'se leaves her'se heres for two weeks and she'se passing out in da streets!" Jack's voice roared through the open door, causing Princess to freeze. Jack? Jack was here?

"Relax, Jack," Spot said, strain and frustration evident in his tone. Obviously Jack had been ranting for a while now. "She'se fine, just gots a littl' over heate'."

"You'se promised us dat you'se would takes care of her'se!" Mush shouted now. Princess, pushing herself away off her bed, stumbling slightly, smiling at the sound of his voice.

She had missed Mush and the others far more than she realized. She slipped out the door as quietly as she possible could; moving down the hall as silent as a ghost. She hid near the back of the crowd of Newsies that filled the lobby. Everyone was so focused on the argument that no one noticed her.  
Spot was sitting in his chair, Shooter behind him, Ace to his side. Carmel sat next to Ace, her face full of concern as she twisted a handkerchief in her hands. Mush and Jack where standing in front of Spot, identical looks of fury covered their faces.

"We'se take' her'se back ta Manhattan." Jack snarled.

"You'se ain't take' her'se no wheres," Spot answered, "We'se had a deal, two months, no'se more, no'se less. Nows stop actin' likes fools. You'se knows as well as I'se dat sometimes you'se just gets too hot. I'se passed out a few times too."

"You'se ain't her'se," Mush retorted, he sounded down right deadly. Time to break this up. "I certainly hope not," Princess replied lightly, slipping through the crowd of Newsies. She smiled brightly at the boys as she neared them, "Now, if you don't mind, I have a headache and all this yelling isn't making it go away any faster."

She was in Mush's crushing embrace before she even realized he had moved; his face buried against her wealth of thick mahogany hair. Princess let him hold her, inhaling his musky scent deeply. "Ares you'se alright?" He asked, several long moments later, finally releasing her. Princess smiled again, sitting on the edge of the table, "I'm fine, really," She said when Jack and Mush looked both unsure and scared, "I just got a little overheated. Really, I'm okay."

She turned slightly to smile at Spot but, much to her surprise, he glared at her before storming out of the lodging house. She was about to go after him when Jack moved forward, cupping her face in his hands, "I'se beat da hell outta you'se if you'se do anyting likes dat again. You'se hears me?"

Princess laughed, giving him a salute before wrapping her arms around him. The thick tension that had settled over the boys broke the moment her laugher filled the lobby. Princess had just been enveloped by a crying Carmel, mumbling incoherently about having to find a new friend, when a sharp jab of hunger shot through Princess, causing her to wince slightly.

"Someting wrongs?" Mush asked, materializing instantly at her side. Princess shook her head lightly. "Just hungry," She admitted sheepishly.

"Skips isn' too fars from heres." Ace stated, pulling Carmel away from Princess, who smiled gratefully at the boy. She could finally take a full breath again. "Carmel and I'se can takes you'se. We'se rushed heres da moment we'se heard you'se fainted." Princess's smiled faded slightly, she felt a bit ashamed that she caused everyone to worry so much.

"That sounds wonderful," Princess stated. She turned her attention back to Jack and Mush, "You'll come too, won't you?" She asked, praying that they would agree. She didn't want them to leave, not just yet.

"Course," Jack stated, lighting a cigarette, while Mush nodded eagerly. She slid off the table, moving towards the door, "Let me ask Spot if he wants to join us," She said but Jack stopped her. "You'se shoul' leave him alone right nows , Princess."

"It'll be okay, Jack," Princess promised, stepping around him, continuing out the door; dodging his hand as he tried to grab her again. It took her a few minutes of wandering to find the Brooklyn leader. He was several blocks away, standing on a pier, looking out at the choppy waters of the river as the setting sunlight bounced from wave to wave.

His hair was shone like pale gold in the dimming light, looking utterly relaxed, a half finished cigarette burning between his fingers. He didn't stir when she said his name, stopping next to him. He stood there, a stone statue, staring out at the water.

"Whys didn' you'se say someting?" Spot snarled after a few silent moments, flicking the cigarette into the waters. He turned to her, his eyes dark and stormy, causing Princess to shiver slightly.

"I was taught never to complain," Princess supplied, meeting his gaze head on, "Old habits die hard I suppose."

Spot continued to glare at her, "Dats a bullshit excuse,"

"What do you want me to say, Spot?" Princess snapped, crossing her arms, returning his glare. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I passed out. I'm sorry that you had to carry me back to the lodging house. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"None of dat matte's, Princess!" Spot shouted, grabbing her shoulders, "You'se put you'se self at risk for da sake of bein' proper. When you'se passed out I'se didn' knows what'se was wrong with you'se. You'se all pale and shaky, burnin' likes you'se were on fire and I'se had no idea what'se hows ta helps you'se! Does you'se know how helpless I'se felt at dat momen'?"

"Does you'se has any idea how scared Mush and Jack were? I'se though' dat dey's were gonna lose it. What abou' Carmel? She'se cried dat entire time dat you'se were out. You'se owe it to dese people ta make damn sure dat you'se take cares of you'se self."

Spot drug her to him, his warm breath fanning against her cheek as he tilted her head back to look into her surprise filled eyes. He ran his knuckles against her cheek, relishing in the smoothness of her sun-kissed skin. Her arms hesitantly slid over his shoulders, bring her closer to his muscled form.

He lowered his head slowly, giving her time to stop him, she simple looked at him, heat filling her gaze. Spot brushed his lips against hers, once, twice, soft touches that made her heart race. "You'se owes it to me," Spot whispered against her lips before he kissed her.

Fireworks exploded behind Princess' eyes the moment his lips touched hers, her body tingling. Spot held her possessively, one hand buried in her hair, the other wrapped tightly around her waist. His lips were soft and warm, masterfully moving against her own.

He kissed her with a kind of urgency, like he couldn't get enough of her. Spot's arms tightened around her, drawing her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. She felt so right in his arms, so prefect, he never wanted to let her go.

Princess gasped softly when Spot's tongue brushed against her lips, causing Spot to pull away, chuckling softly. "Movin' too fast, was I'se?" He asked, kissing her burning cheek before pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

Princess leaned up, brushing her lips against the edge of his jaw lightly, smiling when he inhaled sharply. She pulled back slightly, running the tip of her finger over his lips. "I'm sorry I made you worry," She admitted, letting her hand fall to the curve of his neck, looking up at him. "I promise that I'll let you know if something is wrong."

"You'se bette'," Spot warned. He leaned down to kiss her again but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footfall against the wooden planks, causing them to groan underneath the sudden weight. Four very large, very mean looking Newsies were heading towards them, a menacing glint in their eyes.

Spot let out a soft oath has he gently pushed Princess behind him. They stopped several feet away, looking like a cat that just captured a mouse. They were all massive, towering figures of filth and grime. The smell of cheap booze, sweat, and rotten food rolled off of them.

"Spot," The largest one greeted, stepping closer. He looked animal, thick corded muscles were hidden beneath dirty, tattered, stained clothing and a thick layer of fat. Greasy, mud brown hair clung tightly to his around head, jammed under a brown hat. Beady black eyes stared passed Spot to Princess, while his tongue wetting his cracked lips.

Spot shifted, blocking Princess from the animal's view. Spot looked completely at ease, staring at the Newsies like they were nothing more than bugs that had scuttled into view. "You'se lost, Carnage?" Spot asked, crossing his arms. Princess peeked slightly, daring to look at the brutish men, her fingers twisting in the back of Spot's shirt.

"You'se a long ways from da Bronx."

-  
There you go people,  
The newly rewritten chapter six, because my computer hates my guts and decided to erase every single one of my stories, including this one. I'm so unbelievably sorry about how long it took to post this! Chapter Seven is in the works and should be up soon.

Pixie


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Monsters of War and Love

Princess felt her heart stop as Spot's words echoed in her ears. _"Dear God," _her mind cried out, _"The Bronx. Why are they here?" _Her breath caught in her throat until her chest began to burn.

Carnage didn't answer right away. He shifted slightly, trying to gaze around Spot. "Pretty goily you'se got theres, Spot." His voice rumbled, licking his lips again, "You'se gonna share?"

Spot snorted, pulling Princess out from behind him; trapping her against his lean form, his arms wrapping tightly around her. "Ain't she? She's da newes' goil at Madam Flora's. Carmel brough' hers over ta meet me boys. She only workn' Brooklyn, so you'se gonna have to find you'se own."

"She'se seems ta be a littl' uptight ta be a floozy," A boy commented behind Carnage even as his eyes continued to roam over Princess' lithe form. Spot chuckled, brushing his lips against the curve of her neck. "Every goil nervous' their'se first time."

Princess felt color fill her pale cheeks as she cast her gaze toward the rough wooden planks. Carnage glared at Spot, who blatantly ignored him as he continued to run his lips along her neck and edge of her jaw.

"You'se bette' goes find Carmel," Spot stated against her throat. He gently pushed her away him. "I'se be up at da lodgin' house soon. Wait for me dere."

Princess, slipping easily into her role as a floozy, pushed her full lips out in a prefect pout, "Do I'se have to?" She asked, moving back towards Spot, running her hand down his chest. Spot smiled at her knowingly, leaning down to kiss her quickly. "Yes, nows get."

Princess continued to pout as she made her way off the pier. She swayed through the Bronx Newsies easily smiling sweetly up at them as she passed. "You'se boys play nice now, you'se hears?" She stated, running her fingers over Carnage's beefy shoulder, hiding her grimace when her skin touched his reeking flesh.

Her pace quickened once she hit the cobblestone street. Once Princess was lost sight of the pier, she ran as fast as she could to the lodging house. "Jack! Mush!" She cried, stumbling through the door.

The Manhattan leader caught her, steadying her trembling form. "Princess, what'se wrong?" Jack asked, "Dids Spot hurts you'se?" Princess shook her head, "You have to help him, we were….um…talking when Bronx Newsies came. Spot is all alone with them on the pier about six blocks away."

Jack's eyes widened as several of the Brooklyn Newsies raced out the door to help their leader. "Princess, Carmel," Jack said, stepping away from the girl, "Don' leaves here, no matte' what'se."

Carmel gripped Princess' hand, nodding. Jack smiled at the girls before rushing out the door, Mush in tow. Fish came forward, pulling the girls farther into the lodging house, standing in front of them, his slingshot in hand. "Stays away from da windows an' doors." He warned sitting them down near the fireplace as several other boys came forward, creating a kind of shield, putting themselves between the door and the girls.

The remaining Brooklyn Newsies were tense, handling their slingshot, jumping at the slightest noise, their eyes darting from the windows to the door and back. Princess nibbled lightly on her lower lip, glancing at Carmel, worry shining in her eyes. Carmel's eyes mirrored Princess', her grip tightening on Princess'. "It'll be okay, right, Princess?" She asked, her voice shaking. "Nothing is going to happen."

"Of course it will be," Princess offered instantly, pushing aside her own doubts and fears, "After all, Spot and Jack aren't the kind of people that lose." Even as the words left her lips, Princess felt her chest tighten. The Bronx Newsies looked like monsters, Jack and Spot were the strongest people she knew, but she honestly doubted whether or not they could actually win against the Bronx.

Minutes ticked by audible as no one moved. A thick tension settled over the lobby growing more intense as each second passed until Frick and Frack called out from their post at the door, "They're back."

Moments later Spot and Jack walked through the door, twin frowns claiming both their faces. Princess leapt to her feet, hugging Jack then Spot. "Are you all right?" She whispered against Spot's chest. The Brooklyn leader didn't answer instead pulling her tighter against him, running a hand through her hair.

Mush walked slowly into the lodging house, surrounded by several Brooklyn Newsies. He came to sharp stop, staring in shock as Spot gently cupped Princess' cheek, loving stroking her soft skin. The warm look in Princess' eyes drove Mush into action.

He pulled Princess out of Spot's hold, glaring at the other Newsie, his own arms wrapping around her waist; keeping himself between the two. "Keeps you'se hands ta you'se self, Spot." Mush growled, pulling Princess farther away from the Brooklyn leader, ignoring her protest.

Spot's hand shot out, yanking Mush to a jarring stop, his blue eyes darkening, "I'se suggest dats you'se let her'se go, boy." Spot snarled. Jack walked forward, pulling Spot's hand away from Mush, "Don' threate' me boys, Spot."

Spot shoved Jack away from him, "Don' push me ta fars, Jacky-boy." Spot warned, glaring at the cowboy, "Give her'se back." Jack's eyes narrowed as he squared off with Spot, "Tries an' take her'se."

Princess pushed herself away from Mush glaring at him when he tried to stop her, marching right in between the two leaders causing them to move apart. She paused near the door, "Once you two are done acting like gorillas and realize that I am not a prize to be fought over, you can come and find me; until then I bid you rabid dogs a good day!"

She slipped out the door with her head held high and her back straight. Carmel raced after her, promising to keep an eye on her. Silence blanketed the lobby as the boys continued to stare at the open door.

Spot recovered first, smirking as he clapped Jack on the back, "I'se think dat we'se was insulted." Jack laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "I'se just not sure what'se bother' me more; da gorilla part or da rabid dog part."

--------------------

"'Tries an' take her'se' indeed!" Princess huffed, pacing the cold metal of the Brooklyn Bridge. "Just who do they think they are?"

"Princess," Carmel called, "Lets go back! It's getting cold and I don't think we should be out right now." Princess stopped, sighing as she leaned back against the large support beam. "Stupid boys."

Carmel suddenly broke into a fit of laughter, causing Princess to halt planning the creative names she was going to call the two leaders. "I wish you paused long enough to see their faces, Princess," She stated, wrapping her friend in a hug. "They were so shocked."

Princess tried very hard to fight back the smile that was tugging at her lips, before losing herself into a fit of giggles. "Oh, Carmel, I felt like such a fool stomping out of there like that. I was sure that I looked absolutely silly with my head thrown back like that."

"Hardly," Carmel scoffed, "You really did look like a princess in that moment. Those stupid boys were the ones that looked like silly fools." A warm, impish gleam colored her brown eyes. "So, what did you enjoy your little 'talk' with Spot?"

Princess' cheeks colored brightly as she cast her gaze towards the river below them. "I don't know what you're talking about, Carmel." She calmly stated, tossing her thick, dark hair back over her shoulder. Carmel laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. Princess glared at her howling friend. "Will you shut up, Carmel?"

"Was he that good of a kisser?" Carmel asked, wiping at her eyes. Princess' flush darkened but she shifted closer to Carmel, her eyes bright. "I thought my heart was going to explode." She sighed, leaning back against to cool metal. "I actually saw fireworks."

Carmel's giggling stopped, the silence thick as she studied the blushing girl. "Princess, please tell me that you're not actually falling in love with Spot."

Princess nibbled lightly on her lower lip. "I feel safe with him, Carmel, you don't know how much that means to me. Besides, he seems to care for me. Love might be a bit of a rash statement but it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to say that I liked him. Even though he can make me more furious than I would have thought possible, I do enjoy being around him." She paused, taking in the worried expression on her friend's face. "Why? Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Carmel stated instantly, "I suppose that there isn't, it just took me by surprise. You and Spot tend to fight like cats and dogs whenever you two are around each other. But I think that you're good for the bloated bastard. It's high time that someone stood up to him. Knock him down a few pegs for me while you're at it."

Princess laughed, "I'll do my best." She turned her gaze towards the clear night sky, the stars twinkling like diamonds. She could pick out a few constellations, Orion, The Big Dipper, Cygnus, and the North Star; but it was the moon that stole her attention.

Though it was only a sliver, it shone like the sun, a clean white light that seemed to brighten everything it touched. She loved the moon, knowing now that nothing was beyond her grasp.

The smell of smoke brought Princess away from her thoughts. Spot stood near her, a fresh cigarette between his lips as he leaned heavily on the side railing. She could just make out Carmel's retreating form in the darkness. "How long have you been standing there?" Princess asked; smiling as her friend waved one final time before disappearing from view.

Spot's eyes stayed fixed on the churning water below. "Not longs," He replied, a stream of smoke accompanying his words. "You'se should find a bette' place ta day drea' abou' me though, Princess. Des ain't a real safe place ta be byes you'se self."

"Ha! Hardly," Princess denied instantly even as her cheeks colored slightly. "I have better things to do with my time than spend it thinking of you, Mr. Colon." Spot just smirked, dropping his half-finished cigarette to the waters below.

Princess didn't even have time to react as Spot pulled her into his arms, his lips sealing away her surprised gasp. He kissed her slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to memorize her taste. "Drea'ing abou' me now?" Spot asked devilishly as he drew away.

Heat stole into Princess' face as she tried to force feeling back into her legs. Her heart continued to pound in her chest so loudly that she was sure he could hear its rapid pace. "Maybe," She admitted coyly, resting her cheek on his shoulder as he continued to hold her, his hand gently stroking the curve of her spine.

Spot held her like she was the most precious of things. When his arms were around her she felt as if nothing in the world could ever do her harm. They were both such wonderful feelings, being precious and protected. She had waited so long to feel both. To actually mean something to someone.

"What did the Bronx want?" She asked a few moments later, her words somewhat muffled by the worn fabric of his shirt. Spot stiffened slightly, his arms tightening around her. "War," He answered truthfully knowing that Princess would find out sooner or later. "Deys wan's our territory. Carnage was bringin' his terms tonigh'."

"Which were?"

"Hand over Manhattan and Brooklyn or go ta war." Spot answered simple with a small shrug of his shoulders. He had been expecting something like this for a while now. "What are you planning on doing?" Princess was almost hesitant to ask. If Spot went to war Jack would follow. It's possible that she could lose everything she recently had come to love and count on.

"We'se goes ta war."

Princess pulled away, "Spot," She protested, "There has to be another way to deal with this issues. Can't you just sit down and talk this out or something? Why do you have to fight?" The Bronx Newsies scared her. They were merciless; she could tell that just by looking at them. Merciless rabid animals.

Spot actually laughed, cupping her cheek lightly, "Comes on, Princess. Carnage can' put two words togethe'. How'se does ya expec' us ta talk it out? No, we'se can' do nothin' but figh'."

Princess turned away, her hands gripping the cold railing of the bridge. "When?" Spot shrugged, coming to stand beside her, keeping space between them. "Don' knows. A spot and time will have ta be agree' on. Soon I'se woul' thin'. You'se don' have ta worry abou' me or Jacky-boy, Princess. Dis ain't da firs' time we'se had ta defend us."

"I'm going to worry, Spot, regardless if I should or not." Princess stated quickly, "In fact, I'm willing to do anything I can to help. I may not be too skilled at fighting of any kind but I can learn. I could help gather information or something. I'm going to stand by you and Jack's side. I'm a Manhattan Newsie after all. It's only natural that I be with my leader when he and his allies go into battle."

Spot still didn't touch her, but his stormy eyes never left the girl next to him. Princess was somewhat of a mystery to him. At one time, she had everything she could have ever wanted, money, power, a family, a home; yet she gave it all up to sell papers and live with a bunch of streets rats that barely had enough to eat. Now, she was even willing to go to war with them despite her fear.

She was staring out at the horizon, her eyes shining bright with determination. The wind tugging at her loose hair. She was beautiful. He had only known her for little over two weeks but somehow Princess had wormed her way into his well guarded heart.

He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, to keep her for himself. Something about her made him want to possess her totally, to keep her always by his side. And Spot had no idea why. But, whatever the reason, he couldn't really bear the thought of not having her in his life, they argued and fought a lot, but he loved it. She was the only person that really stood up to him. She made him smile.

He wanted to protect her.

He wanted to possess her.

He wanted to keep her.

He wanted her.

Spot smirked, his eyes shimmering like molten silver in the moonlight. Nothing would be keeping him from having her. Nothing. He was the Great Spot Colon, after all. And the Great Spot Colon always got what he wanted.

--------------------

Hey all!

Pixie is back and hopefully better than ever.

Hope you enjoy this newest installment.

Tell me what you think should happen next.

Pixie


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The Paths of Future and Past

Jack and Mush returned to Manhattan the following day to relay the news of impending war to the rest of the Manhattan Newsies. Princess was sad to see them go, extracting a promise from Jack that they would return soon.

Days passed as the tension that now hung over Brooklyn thickened. The calm before the storm. Everyone seemed to know that something was about to take place. It put Princess on edge, making her jumpy and nervous.

It was yet another day; the sun was beating down, warming the cobblestone beneath her shoes. Princess called out headlines but her mind was far from her work. She had told Spot that she'd do whatever she could to help them in the coming war, since then he had avoided her, going out of his way to keep from bumping into her. He had even allowed her and Carmel to sell together.

"Thank you, all mighty God," Carmel sighed, swiping at the beading sweat on her forehead. "That was my last paper. What do you say we get out of this heat?" Princess masked her concerns and thoughts with a bright smile, nodding. "I would defiantly enjoy some shade at the moment. We could head down to Skip's; meet up with the boys there."

Carmel nodded her agreement, they chatted as the made their way through the crowded streets towards the small diner. Inside it was just as crowded, Newsies occupying most of the tables, yelling, insulting, eating, and drinking only how Newsies could.

Choruses of greetings were giving around mouthfuls of food as the girls walked down the tables, trying to spy a few empty seats. Spot's eyes met Princess' for a brief moment before he returned to the conversation he was having with Shooter.

Princess nibbled lightly on her bottom lip as she took a seat between Fish and Carmel. A straggly waiter took her order, his pointed, rat like nose, high in the air as he stalked off. Princess let out a small sigh, resting her chin on palm.

"What'se wrong, Princess?" Fish asked, bits of his pork sandwich falling from his mouth. Princess just shook her head, "Just tried is all." Fish seemed to except her half-hearted answer, turning to argue again with Frick and Frack headlines. Carmel seemed less excepting, watching Princess carefully but, thankfully, didn't say anything.

She ate sparingly, handing most of her meal over to Fish who never seemed to be able to get enough to eat. Princess remained quiet through most of lunch, smiling and laughing when appropriate. By the end of lunch her head was pillowed in her arms, her forehead pressed against the cool wood of the table. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears while the noise around her grew to a dull and constant roar.

Carmel stroked back the stray dark pieces of hair that had escaped Princess' thick braid. "Maybe you should go back to the lodging house and try to get some sleep, Princess," She suggested, pressing the back of her hand against her friend's forehead, trying to feel for a fever. "You're looking really pale again." Princess offered Carmel a soft smile, sitting up. "No, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me, Carmel."

Disapproval shone through Carmel's eyes but before she could state it a voice cut through the conversation, a voice Princess never thought she would hear again. "My God! Carina, is that you?"

Princess surged to her feet, nearly falling in her haste. "Lara," She breathed, instantly scanning the restaurant and the people visible through the window. "What are you doing here?"

"Me?" Tears welled in Lara's eyes as she took another step closer. Though the wide table was still between then, Princess took a step back. "I was told you were dead, Carina. Dead! I was told you were murdered and your body was never found."

Princess shook her head, backing away further, bumping into the table of Newsies behind her. The restaurant was silent as a tomb, all eyes trained on the two girls. "You shouldn't be here, Lara," Princess stated, her eyes sliding over to Spot, who was on his feet.

Tears were now spilling down Lara's cheeks unchecked, her trembling hands clutched tightly beneath her chin. "What are you talking about, Carina. Please, I-I thought you were died. Please, Carina. . ."

"What'se is you'se sayin', lady?" Spot asked, moving between Princess and Lara. "I'se don' know who'se you'se talkin' about but dis isn't Carina. You'se got the wrong girl." He took Princess' hand, pulling her beneath his shoulder, holding her against him. "Boys, I tink dat we'se bette' get back. We'se got plans ta make."

The Newsies stood, tossing money on the table before filing out of the door. Spot pulled Princess around the table, always keeping his body between the girls. "Carina, please!" Lara pleaded, catching her friend's hand, pulling her to a stop.

Princess looked Lara straight in the eyes, "You have the wrong girl. Last I heard, Carina Von Trent was murdered and her body was thrown in the river. If you're looking for her I'd suggest that you start your search there."

Lara dropped her hand like she had been burned. "Forgive my mistake, miss." She said, her voice even and unemotional, just as they had always been taught. "You looked like a friend I once knew. But I see know that it was my mistake."

Princess nodded, turning away, her heart breaking. Once the restaurant was out of sight she took of, racing passed the masses of Newsies. She flew up the rickety steps of the fire escape, slowly finally when she reached the roof.

"I'm sorry," She gasped, wiping at the tears that were streaking down her cheeks. "Oh, Lara, I'm so sorry." She sat hard on the rough roof, drawing her knees to her chest. She cried, no longer trying to hold it in. She sobbed until the tears ran dry. Her head pounded, her eyes burning.

"Jacky-boy warne' me dat you'se had a ting for da roof." Spot sudden comment broke through the haze that encased her mind. He was sitting on the edge of the roof, one foot swing free, the usual cigarette between his lips.

Princess didn't say anything, pillowing her head in her arms. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable yet both were aware of its presence. She heard Spot sigh, put out his cigarette on the warn cement stones before moving. "Who'se was she?"

"Lara," Princess sniffed, her words heavily muffled by her arms. "One of the few people I actually trusted. God! I'm so selfish. Did you see her eyes? She was devastated and it's my fault. I never thought once about how the stupid lie I made up would affect the people that cared about me. Jerald, Lara, Collette, Lenora; I just ran off, never once stopping to think about them, how much them would be hurt."

"Des peoples, dey were you'se friends?"

Princess looked up then, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. "They were my only haven. The only people I could actually count on."

"Dey cared abou' you'se though, right?" Spot pressed, glaring harshly at her. Princess sighed slightly, giving Spot a dark look of her own. "What are you trying to say, Spot?"

He stood slowly, stretching. Spot reached down, grabbing her wrist, and pulled her sharply to her feet. "If dey truly cared abou' you'se den dey would understan' you'se leavin'. Dere's times when ya need ta tink of you'se self first instea' of everyone else, Princess. You'se family was killin' you'se. If dese peoples cared abou' you'se as much as you'se claim dey did den dey would have wante' you'se ta leave and be'se happy."

Princess paused, she had never thought of it that way before. She hadn't informed anyone but Jerald of her plan because she had wanted to protect them from the wrath of her parents. She had thought of them, had wanted to protect them. Though it was a hard decision to make it was one she made out of concern and love for those who truly cared for. There was nothing selfish about that.

"Thank you, Spot," She said, smiling up at him. "I never would have thought of it that way."

Spot sighed with a light shrug of his shoulders. "Dats because you'se don' tink." He patted her head as if she was a dog then moved to leave. Princess' heart sank, her eyes bright with hurt. Whatever she must have done to Spot must have infuriated him for him to treat her with such coldness.

"I'm sorry," She blurted suddenly. Spot paused at the top of the ladder, staring at her like she had just sprouted horns. "Wha' ares you'se talkin' abou', Princess?"

"I'm sorry for whatever I've done to offend you." Princess continued, taking a small step forward. Spot still looked confused, "Offen' me? Princess, wha' ares you'se talkin' abou'? You'se haven' done anyting ta offen' me."

Princess blinked, taken back by his answer. "Then why have you been treating me like I have the plague? You've barely spoken to me in days. This afternoon was the first time you've actually touched me since the night on the bridge. You've been acting so cold towards me and I thought that I must have done something that offended you. But if I haven't then what is the problem? Am I no longer good enough for you or something? Because if that is the. . ."

"You'se knows bette' dan dat, Princess," Spot snapped.

She glared at him, crossing her arms. "Do I, Spot? Please, inform me what I'm missing than so I can either slap you and get on with my life or work this out so I don't feel like a leper every time I'm around you."

Spot didn't answer right away, leaning back against the rusted railings of the ladder, his gaze cast down towards his scuffed shoes. "I'se don' wants you'se ta leave, Princess. Dis is where'se you'se belong now."

"I'm a Manhattan Newsie, Spot." Princess reminded him, her anger beginning to fade. She didn't want to leave Brooklyn, despite her threat; it had truly become another home to her. Part of her did miss Manhattan but another part would miss Brooklyn just as fiercely, the river, the Newsies, its leader. Brooklyn had grown on her and she loved it as much as she did Manhattan.

Spot looked up then, his eyes burning hot with anger. He stormed towards her with such a vengeance that a gasp of fear escaped her as she stumbled back. Spot's arms shot around her, one pinning her arms against her, the other hand burying deep with in the dark lochs of her hair, tilting her head back so she had to look right at him. "You'se not goin' anywhere'se." He growled.

Princess' eyes hardened, "I am not your dog, Mr. Colon, do not treat me like it. I am yours neither to command nor control. I ran from that lifestyle once before, do not think that I am such a coward that I will not do so again. You have no right to keep me here."

"I'se have every righ', Princess. You'se ares mine, ya hear me? Mine! Ta keeps and protect. You'se got dat? You'se ain't goin' no where'se. I'se cares too God damn much abou' you'se ta sees you'se floatin' face downs in da riva. An' don' tink for one secon' dat da Bronx ain't plannin' ta use you'se agains' Jacky-boy and me cause dats da first ting deys is gonna tries an' do." Spot shot back, his grip tightening.

"So you've been treating me like one of the damned because you're afraid that the Bronx is going to try and kill me?" Princess scoffed, her voice rising.

"No, its cause I'se don' have a frickin' clue how ta keeps you'se safe or even why I'se cares so much abou' a goil I'se hardly knows." Spot nearly shouted his response. "Alls I knows is dat ever' time I'se tink abou' you'se leavin' ta goes back ta Manhattan or you'se not bein' aroun' heres no more, I'se don' like it. So if I'se don' likes it, you'se ain't going anywhere'se. Gots dat?"

"Why, Spot?" Princess asked, her own voice rising to match his, "Carmel is right, all you and I do is fight. You and I should hate each other, we shouldn't be able to stand being in the same room. So why is that I feel so safe when you're near me? Why does my heart nearly burst from my chest every time you touch me? Why is it that I can't seem to get you out of my head? Why can't I hate you that way I know I should?"

Her anger suddenly died when she realized it. She was falling in the love with Spot Colon. The crass, prideful, arrogant, cocky Spot Colon had somehow obliterated the walls she had placed around her heart. Here she was, now bare, stripped of all protection. And she loved him for it.

"Why?" Princess wasn't even aware that single word had passed her lips. Spot took no notice of the change the girl in his arms had just undergone. Anger and the need to keep her were the only things his mind was able to grasp at the moment. He wasn't ever going to let her go. Ever.

"Why?" He snapped, "I'se tells you'se why. Because you'se are de only ting in dis life dat I'se have ever wante' ta keep. Da only ting worth keepin', worth fightin' for. I'se barely knows you'se, at times I'se hates you'se, and you'se can piss me off more dan anyone. But none of dat matte's when I'se has you'se in me arms. I'se give every ting ta protect me boys, every ting. I'se becomes cold an' cruel, a murder, just so dey don' have ta. But I'se will not give you'se up. And I'se kills anyone dat tries ta make me. Jacky-boy, Mush, dis Lara, Carnage, eve' Victor Von Trent, none of dem will ever makes me let you'se goes. Dats why, Princess."

Princess stood speechless, her eyes brimming with tears. Though spoken through a haze of anger, Spot's words were the sweetest she had ever heard. She stepped forward, her arms sliding around his shoulders as her lips brushed innocently against his; her tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't want to be anywhere but with you, Spot." She whispered as she drew away slightly, her eyes shimmering.

Spot's heart thundered at her simple statement. He drew her close, his arms holding her tightly against his form as he kissed her; showing her all the feelings that he would never be able to express with words._ "Mine,"_ His mind chanted over and over again as he deepened the all ready passionate kiss.

"Spot?" Shooter's disgruntled voice caused Princess to instantly still in Spot's arms. He drew back slowly, his blue eyes vibrant and glittering with lust. Scant inches between them his warm breath caressed her flushed cheeks even as Shooter's clanking footsteps neared.

Spot's lips brushed against her face, trailing to her ear. He took the soft lobe into his mouth, ignoring her whimper of protest, biting softly before sucking away the sting. "I'se plans on finishin' dis discussion," He whispered tracing her outer ear with the tip of his tongue. "I'se suggests dat you'se be readies for it, Princess."

He stepped away from her as Shooter came onto the roof. Spot's hand slid over her hip, brushing against her upper thigh before dropping. Princess turned away, trying desperately to control her racing heart. "What'se da matte', Shooter?" She heard Spot ask, his voice not without a tinge of male pride.

"Dere's someone in da lobby askin' fors Princess," Shooter informed his leader, his cold eyes glowing with anger. "Its da same goil from Skip's." Princess' eyes grew wide. A moment, maybe two, was all her shock was able to hold her before she dashed towards the ladder.

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Lara stood in the lobby, wringing her hands. Many of the surrounding boys stared at her with cold, menacing eyes. They had no desire for her to be there. Even the single female seated near the large fireplace regarded her with an uncaring gaze.

They were nothing like the Newsies she had met in Manhattan those months ago. Then she was treated with a kind of hesitant warmth; here, however, she received neither kind smile nor caring word; hate filled glares and overwhelming animosity her only welcome in this place. Had Carina really made this seemingly heartless environment her home?

Seconds ticked by nearly audibly as she continued to wait. Carina appeared moments later, nearly falling down the rickety steps in her haste. The boy from before followed closely behind her, catching Carina, saving her from a nasty tumble. The look in her eyes as she smiled up at him took Lara's breath away. Never before had she seen Carina wear such an uncensored look of admiration.

"Lara," Princess said as she came to a halt before her. "What are you doing here?" Lara didn't answer right away, her gaze still upon the boy as he stood at the base of the steps. His eyes were soulless, swirling vortexes of hate and mistrust. He glared at her and no words were needed. If she valued her life, she would leave and never return.

"I-uh," She stumbled over her words, tearing her eyes from his threatening gaze. "I still wanted to speak to you, Carina. I…"

"Princess," The seated girl called out suddenly, interrupting her. "Excuse me?" Lara asked as she turned her attention towards the beautiful blonde. "Her name," The girl stated, "It's Princess."

"Perhaps here it is, but I will not call her by some ridicules pen name." Lara said firmly, "Changing one's name does not change who they are. It does not make them a new person. It does not rid them of their past and passed transgressions. She is Carina, now and forever. Changing her name will not change that fact."

"That's enough, Lara," Princess interjected, "I have no desire to become what I once was. Can you truly blame me for wanting to leave that life behind me?" Lara studied Carina through heated eyes as she gained control of her temper. "No, I suppose I can not." She finally conceded, turning fully towards her friend, blatantly ignoring the rest of the room. "But can you blame me for being ill-tempered? This day has been full of shock for me. I can only deal with one turn of events at a time, if you please."

Princess' face softened, a warm smile tugging at her lips. "Of course, Lara, and I'm so sorry that I caused you so much pain. I was only trying to protect you from my parents. I am truly delighted to see you again."

"I can understand your reasoning, Carina," Lara admitted, grasping her friend's now rough hands tightly in her gloved ones. "I have missed you more than you are aware. I never truly believed that you died; you are far too smart to be harmed by a simple mugger. Unfortunately, your parents also believe this. They are still searching for you."

Princess' smile fell, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, "Do they have any idea where I am?" Lara shook her head, "No, they believe that you have left the city and have been centering their search else where. It was sheer genius to remain here. But never mind that at the moment. I have a solution that will forever put you beyond their reach, Carina."

"Oh?"

"My parents are sending me to a finishing school in Georgia if you were to accompany me you would remain out of their reach and if they were to ever find you you'd be old enough by then to remain out of their custody. Don't you see, Carina? It is the prefect solution. You can remain in the class you were born to and still retain your freedom."

Princess was taken back by her offer. Her hesitation was obviously not the reaction Lara had been expecting. "Carina, what is the matter? Can you not see the opportunity I am giving you? You can't possible wish to remain here, working day after day as a newsboy. This is not living, Carina, it is simply surviving. You were meant for a life greater than this. It is your destiny."

"I was meant for nothing more than to be a dutiful daughter and one day an obedient and silent wife." Princess questioned, withdrawing her hands from Lara's. "If I was meant for nothing more than this greater lifestyle, as you claim, than perhaps I should have thrown myself to the river. I don't want to return to a life of being nothing more than a doll, good only for parties, operas, balls, and dinners with no mind or free willing of my own. That is no way to live. A glided cage is still nothing more than cage, Lara. That life holds nothing, no beauty, no laughter, no love, no feeling, no hope, no joy. Nothing, it is an empty way to live."

Princess' gaze took in the lobby and the people within it. As ragged and shabby as it was, it surged with life, with feelings, with hope and dreams, desires and the will that could over come all obstacles. "It is true; my life here is hard and perhaps I am only surviving but I would rather survive and grow stronger."

"You have changed, Carina," Lara said, taking a small step back from her friend. Carina's face glowed, uncensored feeling shining through her eyes. "I suppose we don't have any more to say to one another than." She turned towards the door.

Lara had expected feelings of sadness maybe even anger but nothing but a kind of understanding surfaced. "I'm sorry, Lara," Princess said causing her to pause, glancing over her shoulder. Lara spun on her heel, flinging her arms around Princess' shoulders.

"No, Carina, I am the one that should be apologizing." She stated against the rough fabric of Princess' blouse. "I wanted things to return to the way they once were so badly that I did not even take a moment to consider your feelings. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. If you are happy here than I have no right to question it. Never before have I ever seen such a look in your eyes, you practically glow when you speak. I am truly delighted that you have finally found a home that makes you so content. It is all I have ever wished for you."

She released Princess, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. "I really must be off. My parents will begin to worry." Lara moved again towards the door, "You were a sister to me, Carina, and the only person that I had ever trusted enough to show the inner me that lies in hiding. I am so proud that you have the courage to break free of the glided cage that binds us. With such courage and your heart, not even the moon is beyond your reach. Goodbye, Princess."

With that Lara walked out the door and into the sunlight that waited beyond. Princess knew they would never see each other again, she wasn't sad though. They were both determined to walk the paths that had been set before them and they both understood this. There was no reason to be sad, Lara would always hold a place in her heart and the memories of her would warm Princess when ever she called them forth.

With a final unspoken goodbye, Princess turned away from the door. Before her stood her future, behind her the past began to fade away. She smiled then, ready to embrace the path she had chosen.

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Hey faithful!

Here's yet another chapter.

I don't know when the next will be out,

So I hope this holds you till then.

Thanks for the reviews.

You rock!

Pixie


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